Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires
by The Batchild
Summary: Asher and Amelia are forced to call in the Winchesters to help with a nasty case and end up fighting more than just the one battle. More help is needed and before they know it, they're neck deep in vampires ready and waiting to slaughter them all.
1. Chapter One: Five Months Later

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter One: Five Months Later.

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Her legs were aching. Her lungs were burning. But she kept running.

Her muscles were screaming in protest and her eyes were burning with the sweat running into them, but she kept running.

She had to keep running.

She couldn't stop. Not unless she wanted to die, anyway.

Or be torn to bloody ribbons.

You could never be sure just how an attack was going to go with werewolf blood coursing through your veins.

Asher Michaels' feet pounded the pavement, each step vibrating through the soles of her knee-high boots and up the bones of her legs, shaking her knees and rattling her hips as the joints ground together heavily. Her werewolf blood couldn't keep her from hurting, not after running as fast as she could for what had to be close to twenty minutes or half an hour or forty-five minutes or however long it had been, but she couldn't stop. If she stopped, they would catch up, and she was already bleeding, and that would be so not good, not when you were being pursued by vampires who were hungry for your blood. Asher would have been poisonous to them if it had been the full moon and if she had been able to transform, but it wasn't and she couldn't. So she had to run.

She looked over her shoulder as their fanged faces entered her mind, but again, she saw nothing and although she knew better than to think that meant they'd dropped off the chase, her body begged her to stop moving.

She took a deep breath and pushed herself harder. She had to get away from the vampires.

There had only been two of the bloodsuckers chasing her when she'd left the nest, but that building had been chalk full of the pasty-faced people and all of them had seen her. Amelia hadn't been seen because she'd entered the building through the roof. Asher had to be the brazen one and parade through the front door, armed only with her trusty sawed-off and a machete. She'd killed maybe five or six before they'd gotten the jump and started chasing her through the sector of the city.

There was a snarl like a cat behind her and Asher stumbled, startled by the sudden and alarming noise, hitting the pavement hard, her flesh tearing on the rough ground and her teeth splitting her lip as she lost her footing. It was a brief pause, but still a pause as she scrambled to her feet and continued down the narrow back street, running for her life.

Something heavy suddenly slammed into her back, driving her to the ground again with a knee in the middle of her back and a hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Asher screamed as the vampire sunk its fangs into her shoulder, through the sleeve of her leather jacket and her shirt and dug its nails into her sides. All the bucking, twisting and thrashing Asher could muster under the weight of a full-grown supernatural human being was in vain and within a minute of the first attack, another vampire descended on their canine prey and began ripping through her clothes, trying to get to her flesh, her blood and drain her dry. This one sunk its fangs into her calf and tore them out again, taking what felt like a fair chunk of flesh with it.

Another roar sounded from behind, but this wasn't from anything organic and it was accompanied by lights, bright and yellow. Asher's truck, driven by her adoptive sister Amelia Shaw, bounced over the horizon, cut through the darkness and headed straight for them, heedless of its owner lying on the ground. As the vampires looked up at the approaching vehicle, Asher used all her supernatural strength that was left to her after her run and pushed out from under them, rolling out of the road just as her truck barrelled down the street, taking out the vampires and splattering the area with blood. A head went flying past Asher and, not for the first time, the young hunter was glad she had installed the sharp steel grate on the front of her beloved truck

"Get in!" Amelia howled from the front seat.

Asher clambered to her feet and ran the short distance to the back of the truck, leaping past the open tailgate to the window at the back of the cab, huddling against the cold fibreglass body. Amelia drove off at top speed just as the surviving vampire pushed itself to its feet and gave another feline-esque cry into the night.

Figures appeared out of the shadows on either side of the alley-like street, all dressed in leather and denim and pale as the moon above. Vampires. Lots of them.

"This was a mistake..." Asher muttered.

A very eerie noise filled the night then. All the vampires were snarling, and then, almost as one, they started running after the truck.

Asher pounded on the window. "Drive faster!" she screamed. "They're chasing us!"

She felt the truck shift gears as Amelia stepped on the gas and breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Vampires were fast, but they couldn't keep up with a speeding vehicle. Asher settled back against the cab and let herself hurt. The tears started to fall then, hot and fast and she let herself sob loudly. She was bleeding from at least seven deep wounds and a million shallow ones and she was pretty sure there was something broken somewhere. Her body was throbbing, pulsing with pain. It hurt to breathe.

And she needed a shower. Bad.

Amelia kept driving and eventually the buildings of the small town fell away to farm houses, trees and fields, and then she drove some more. The motel they were staying at was one of the roadside jobs, out in the middle of nowhere and suited for those always on the move. It was small and cramped, but the beds were soft, the rooms were warm and the staff was friendly and smart enough to leave Asher and Amelia alone when they asked. It took half an hour or so to make it to the squat brick building, and by that time, Asher was feeling light headed from blood loss and numb from the pain she was in, but Amelia was quick at parking the vehicle and dragging her sister inside and onto the bed where she immediately started tending to the older woman's wounds. The blood had dried to a sticky brownish substance that didn't want to come off; Amelia almost removed a layer of skin trying to get it all off.

"These are bad, Ash," she said as she cleaned the bite mark on her shoulder.

"I'm alive aren't I?" the werewolf asked around heavy breaths. She winced as the cloth dug into the exposed flesh, but otherwise didn't move.

"Barely." Amelia pulled her well-stocked first aid kit out of her duffel bag and started cleaning the various scratches and gashes with the stuff that stung like a bitch. Asher couldn't get infections, but it made Amelia feel like she was being a better sister to go through the motions and she always thought it was better to be prepared. As the cloth passed over that particularly nasty wound again, Asher clenched her teeth hard to keep from screaming and waking the other people in the motel. "How are you feeling?" Amelia asked when she noticed her sister's reaction.

"Light headed and sore."

"Well that's to be expected and from what my amateur medical skills can tell, you have a broken rib or two, probably from when that vampire rode you into the ground."

"Do I have to go to the hospital?"

"No. The most they'd do is do a very expensive X-ray before telling you to take it easy and giving you some powerful pain killers that wouldn't work on you anyway because of your werewolf blood or metabolism or something. They'd also want to do tests that would expose you for what you are. So no. No hospital for you. Now hold still." Amelia pulled out a needle that was ready to go with the thick black thread used for stitches and began sewing Asher back together; she had to keep the needle threaded because Asher was very frequently getting herself cut to ribbons.

"Just hurry it up would ya? And give me my phone."

Amelia handed her sister the device. "Who are you going to call at this hour?" she asked.

"Someone who can help."

"Help with what?"

"That nest. There's no way we can take out all those vampires by ourselves, Amelia."

The younger of the two stabbed the needle into Asher purposefully, pricking a small hole in some of the increasingly unblemished skin on her back. She was a werewolf and had increased healing, so it wouldn't do anything other than prove a point. "Don't you call the Winchesters."

"Why the hell not? We work well with them. They're good hunters. Besides, you seem to like Sam well enough."

"Yeah, and you like Dean."

"No I don't." Asher pressed the speed-dial code for Dean's cell and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Then why do you have him on speed-dial?"

"Shut up." The phone rang and Asher bit her split lip, hoping the handsome hunter would answer. She was scared. Being chased by a hoard of angry vampires was not something that happened often—or ever—and it had shaken Asher to her core. Since Asher was normally the one to play the big and tough role, that was saying something. She knew they needed help, and admitting that was something also out of character for her. Amelia probably realized that, but was playing like she didn't. When Asher was scared, it usually meant something big was about to go down. "Hey asshat," she said once the voicemail had picked up. "Hurry it up and call me back. We've got a problem here and we need your help, and that right there should tell you how big a shithole we've gotten ourselves into. Amelia and I are holed up at the Blue Bird Motel on the west side of Oklahoma City, way out in the God damn middle of nowhere. Get your asses here as soon as possible."

"That was a lovely message," Amelia chirped as soon as her sister had hung up.

"Shut up and sew."

"Ash, this is going to take a long time. You're torn all to shit."

"Yeah, thanks for reiterating."

Amelia huffed and resisted the urge to dig her finger into the wound she was working on sewing up. "Ash, I know you're scared and so am I, but just _chill out_. There's nothing we can do right now so just be quite and let me stitch you up."

Asher tried to think so something snarky to say but came up empty, so she grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her chin so she could lay more comfortably on her stomach while she was slowly brought back into one piece. They sat in silence for a very long time, until the grey light of first dawn broke through the window.

"Have you been in contact with Dean since we saw them last?" Amelia asked.

Asher closed her blue, blue eyes and inwardly sighed. She had known this conversation was one she was going to have to have eventually, but that didn't mean she was prepared or looking forward to it. "Before we left that motel, Dean and I told each other to call if we needed anything. We've been calling each other to ask questions and opinions and whatnot... They're smart, Amelia. I'm not about to waste a good resource."

"And why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I know you're still worried about them going all super-hunter and shooting my ass, that's why."

"And because you're stubborn as all get out and not about to admit to anyone, not even me, that you need help."

She thought about that for a moment. "That too."

"You didn't have to hide this... wait a minute. About two months ago, when you disappeared for like three days, did you run off to meet them?"

"No."

"Did you run off to meet Dean?"

Asher mentally cursed Amelia being smart enough to pick up the need for specifics. "Yeah. We were relatively close and that was when you and I were fighting about that guy I shot in the face, so I wanted to see someone else... We don't have many friends, Amelia, so Dean and I met up for some drinks."

"And?"

"And nothing. We drank, got drunk and passed out."

"Suuure."

Asher clenched her teeth again and didn't respond to Amelia's jibe. Getting drunk and passing out wasn't all that had happened, at least not in that order, but she didn't want to think about what _had _happened because it was embarrassing from her and she didn't embarrass easily. Dean had taken it well, or appeared to, but she still didn't want to think about it. She looked at her phone, but it remained silent and she cursed again, under her breath.

Another long span of silence stretched out around them as Amelia continued to stitch and Asher just lied there playing the role of a good patient. Eventually, all the wounds on her back were stitched and cleaned again and Asher shifted position so she was sitting up and Amelia could work on the wounds on her arms, chest, stomach and legs. By that point, Asher had gone completely numb from the pain and was in a sort of stupor, thinking of anything and everything but the needle going in and out of her skin. She wasn't pleased to find her thoughts revolving mostly around Dean, but it was betting than the operation going on. The stitching didn't bother her on a gore level, but if she thought about being repaired, she would think about being injured and the pain would all come flooding back. Once her arms were stitched, Amelia cut Asher's shirt off so she could reach the long gash on her chest.

Before she could, however, there was a buzz from her phone and Asher lunged forward to grab it, not thinking and tearing the stitches on her right arm.

"Good job," Amelia breathed, the words more a curse than anything. She'd been working for hours and was no doubt exhausted. And now she was going to have to work more.

"For the third time tonight, _shut up_."

"Hey, I saved your life tonight."

Ignoring Amelia again, Asher pressed the green button and stuck the phone to her ear. "'Bout time you got back to me, pissbitch."

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**Author's Note.**

Yeah, yeah, so I lied about not starting any more fics, but again, the muses... they have their own minds. I'm just along for the ride, honey. If you're reading my stuff, you'd better buckle up because you're coming to. Of course, you could say this isn't a new fic, just an extension of one I've already posted. Well, whatever. Enjoy this second book of my Supernatural fic. We get to go deeper into Asher and Amelia and their relationship with Sam and Dean. Plus, there is vampires, and that's always fun.

**Next Chapter: Big Ass Nest. **


	2. Chapter Two: Big Ass Nest

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Two: Big Ass Nest.

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The last little while had been quiet for the Winchester brothers. Luckily, they'd found some cheap motel in the middle of absolutely nowhere that they could afford to stay in for a rather extended period of time; the owner/manager/receptionist didn't seem interested in asking questions or digging into the Winchesters which was ideal. He was getting paid and that seemed to be all that mattered. Currently, on their fifth night in the cramped and very yellow room, Sam was sitting at the small table, his laptop open in front of him and his eyes zipping back and forth as he scanned the obituaries and news articles for anything that might have been up the hunters' alley and Dean, well... he was sitting across the table, halfway through a cheeseburger and looking mighty pleased about it.

"You're going to have a heart attack," Sam said absently as he clicked onto another page.

Dean just smiled smugly and shrugged before taking another large bite of the meaty sandwich and chewing, the bite barely fitting in his mouth. Sam opened his mouth to say something else, but Dean's cell beeped, drawing his attention. As he pulled the device out of his coat pocket, he frowned at the display before flipping it open and pressing some of the keys. "Asher," he mumbled after he swallowed.

Sam just nodded and turned his attention back to his laptop. Unlike Amelia, however many miles away she was, the young Winchester had known his older brother and Asher had kept in touch and he had even called her once to ask her opinion. He wasn't sure why she didn't tell Amelia, but that wasn't really his business. It had been a while since they'd had any contact with Asher—probably something to do with the weird meeting her and Dean had had a little while ago—but the message Asher had left Dean was probably just the usual: asking for the boys' opinion or for some long-distance help. As Sam looked up to ask Dean what was up though, he took in the worried look on his brother's face and realized it might be something a little more serious.

"They need help. Like in-person help," Dean informed the curious Sam.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure yet." Dean put the cheeseburger down, which in itself told Sam how serious this might be, and he dialled Asher's number from memory. "Hey Ash," he said.

Sam caught the change in Dean's voice as it shifted from his normal, slightly sarcastic and arrogant tone to something a little more guarded, and since his brother listened to music so incredibly loud all the time, he could hear Asher's side of the conversation, as well as his brothers; her voice was loud and the edge of anger was coming through clear. _"'Bout time you got back to me, pissbitch." _Sam snorted at the name and then pretended to bury his attention in whatever was on his laptop screen.

"How long ago did you call?"

_"Ten minutes." _

"Okay... this _must_ be something serious if you're _this_ impatient. What ya got?"

Ignoring the heavy sarcasm, Asher replied, _"A big ass nest of vampires: that's what we got. We need your help and anyone else you trust to have our backs and we need you and your friends to get out here a.s.a.p." _

Dean frowned, no doubt thinking of who they could call. "I'll make some calls before Sam and I hit the road, but I can't promise any more backup than just Sammy and me."

_"Whatever. We can't take on this nest by ourselves." _

"How big is this nest exactly?"

There was a heavy sigh and then Asher said, _"I only managed to count forty or so, but there were more. Could be as many as fifty." _

"Did you two already try and take this nest on?"

_"Shut up and get your asses out here," _she snapped, clearly defensive._ " I'll explain everything when you boys show up. Room 15."_

Dean snapped the phone shut after Asher hung up and slipped the phone back into his coat pocket. Without saying anything to Sam, he started moving about the room, gathering up his possessions and stuffing them back into his worn canvas duffle bag. Sam closed the laptop and followed his brother's example and within hardly any time at all, they had the room packed up and looking almost as it had when they'd arrived almost a week ago. As they had been taught by their Dad, John Winchester, they did a final sweep of the room to make sure they didn't leave anything behind before heading out to the Impala and tossing their bags in the trunk.

As they climbed on the bench seat in the front, Dean pulled out his phone and dialled Papa Winchester's cell and, taking the hint, Sam pulled out his own phone and called the one other person they trusted to watch their backs and the second most experienced hunter they knew. Unfortunately, neither John Winchester nor Bobby Singer picked up their phones and both Sam and Dean were forced to leave brief messages explaining what was going on, why they needed their help and where they would be if either of the older men could make it. The calls made, Dean started the car and they headed out towards the highway, speeding towards The Blue Bird Motel.

They arrived at the small motel around two-thirty in the morning and parked under the large, neon blue sign and beside Asher's quite monstrous truck. Knowing the girls would not be asleep, Sam and Dean grabbed their bags from the trunk, walked up to the door and knocked.

As Asher opened the door, they were greeted with a sight they had not expected. She looked exactly the same as the last time the boys had seen her—long and slightly shaggily-cut black hair surrounding her severe face and intense blue eyes—but this time, she was very nearly torn to ribbons. Her right arm was wrapped in a thick bandage with a dark red patch of drying blood on the outside, and there were bright red lines bisected with the thick black stitches criss-crossed her arms, chest and stomach. Since she was wearing only her black bra and a pair of blue plaid shorts that were very much so, they could see everything perfectly. Sam blinked and looked appropriately shocked at her injuries while Dean spent an extra minute gazing at her in a not-so-appropriate way, taking in her shapely form beneath all the wounds. The look collapsed as he noticed the mounds of scar tissue decorating her wrists and cutting across her torso.

"Yeah, yeah, you can gawk all you want but come inside so Amelia can finish stitching me up," she snapped.

Sam and Dean followed her into the well-lit and surprisingly spacious room, both gaping at the additional wounds on her back. "What the hell happened?" Dean asked.

"Shut up, make me a drink and sit down and I'll tell you. And make it a double."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but then shut it, shrugged and walked to the small kitchenette where he knew the girls, or Asher in any case, would have stashed her booze. Sam, on the other hand, sat down on the bed opposite the one where Amelia was working on Asher and, after shooting the younger, blonde woman a grin in greeting, asked, "Are your scars from the silver chains?"

Asher didn't look at him as she nodded. The scars were fresher and thus more noticeable than they would have been the last time she'd seen the boys as they were only a few days off her last transformation and she'd been two weeks off the transformation last time.

"So," Dean said, suddenly stepping into the awkward silence and handing the injured hunter a glass full of amber liquid. "How'd you get yourself ripped to shreds?" He took a sip of his own drink and smiled at the resident surgeon. "Hey Amelia."

"Hi Dean."

Asher glowered at the brash hunter for a moment and visibly fought the urge to throw something at him. He seemed to be the target of her ire whenever she was upset and he was around. "We got wind of something that sounded like vampire attacks," she said instead, focusing on work so she wouldn't attack Dean; the embarrassment she still felt was quite obviously a factor as her cheeks flushed when their eyes met for longer than a few seconds. "So Amelia and I came into town and tracked them down. We found three vampires feasting last night and took care of them but not before we chased them all the way back to the warehouse their nest is living in. So we beheaded the three we caught and then took a peek inside."

"That doesn't explain how you got your ass kicked."

Amelia satisfied Asher's urge to toss something at Dean as she chucked the pillow by her leg at him, hitting him in the face when his drink was down.

"Thanks." Asher took a long drink and then winced as Amelia went back to stitching up a nasty wound in her back. "Amelia went up to the roof and I went in what would pass for the front door, because we didn't figure there would be that many of them."

"Well nests aren't usually any bigger than ten, fifteen at the most," Sam interjected.

"I know, which is why we figured we'd be fine. But as soon as I got into the main area of the building, I knew we were royally fucked. It was packed with vampires." Asher's face darkened for a second, and her self-hatred was plain. "A group of them rushed me and I was able to take them out, but then I turned and ran." The look on her face deepened before she turned away and faced the wall instead of the Winchesters. "There was no way I was staying and fighting."

"I took off at that point and went back to the truck so I could pick up her up," Amelia said, picking up the tale as she finished stitching Asher's wound shut. "When I caught up with her, she was already torn up."

"They jumped me and started tearing me apart," the werewolf snapped, her eyes still on the wall.

Sam and Dean remained silent for several long minutes, sensing that Asher needed a moment. She was a werewolf and it wasn't often someone or something got the jump on her and beat her up so completely. Amelia had finished stitching her sister and was gently applying some sort of antibiotic cream or something before she applied bandages to the worst of the gashes. By the time she was done, Asher resembled something close to a mummy in the process of being wrapped. After she was back in one piece, Asher sat up with a grimace and drained the three quarters of her scotch that was left. Her injuries would have seriously incapacitated anyone else in that room, and if not for her superhuman blood, her as well.

"They didn't try to drink your blood?" Sam asked, his voice tentative.

"I'm not sure they didn't try, but I didn't really give them a chance. On the other hand, they might not want my blood."

"Why not?"

Asher looked at Sam, a tiny, tiny smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth, a shadow of her usual self showing through her disappointment in herself. "You mean you don't know?"

Dean scoffed. "Evidently there's a lot about werewolves we don't know."

"Werewolf DNA of any kind—spit, blood, ex cetera—is lethal to vampires and visa versa, but only around the full moon, when the werewolf is about to transform. And no, I don't know why. But enough about me. Who did you call?"

"I left a message with our Dad and Sam left a message with Bobby Singer," Dean said. In one of his sensitive moments, the elder Winchester complied with what Asher said. Of course, provoking the angry werewolf didn't sound like a good idea, at least not when she was highly likely to tear him to ribbons, something he would not survive. "I was going to call Bobby again. Of the two, he's the most likely to actually pick up."

"Do it. I'm going to try and clean up."

As Asher got slowly, painfully to her feet, Amelia said, "Just holler if you need a hand."

Feeling that same surge of sensitivity, Dean let the dirty-minded comment slide, but silently vowed that was the only one he would let by, because that's just how he rolled. "You heard the lady," he said to Sam as he rose to his feet. "Give Bobby another call. I'm going to find some food in this place."

"You just ate."

"Well, I'm hungry again. You want anything?"

"No."

"How about you, Amelia?"

"I'm fine, but you might as well grab a couple cheeseburgers for Ash. Whenever she's injured severely she eats twice as much as normal." Amelia gave a small sigh and turned her gaze to the bathroom door, something heavy and unspoken hanging there. She was blatantly worried about her adoptive sister, but there was something else, something darker and more sinister. "This is the worst she's ever been... And she's not normally this rash. Or, at the very least, she doesn't usually break through the front door of a known vampire hideout."

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

Amelia opened her mouth, but at that moment Asher called her name from the bathroom and the younger girl went, re-doing her ponytail to secure the fly-aways and, preparing for the worst, grabbed her medical kit before heading into the narrow tiled room. Before the door closed all the way, Dean caught a glimpse of tan flesh and thin lines of blood snaking across the off-white tiles of the floor. He winced and turned to Sam.

"She shouldn't be fighting, Dean."

"Don't you think I know that? But do _you _want to try and stop her? There's something driving her besides the job, Sammy. Messing with her on a normal day is a bad idea, but we may end up lookin' like her if we try anything this time."

Sam gave one of his soulful sighs and ran his fingers back through his hair. "This isn't going to be easy."

"Is it ever?"

"Weren't you going to get food?"

Dean shot his brother a glare and then strode from the motel room, his face displaying his thoughts and emotions as they wheeled through his mind.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

Okay, so I realize the language might be a little off-putting. Sorry. That's just the way Asher and Dean treat each other. As Shauna put it in her one-chapter Samelia moment: they're either at each other's throats or going at it like rabbits. Okay, so she didn't exactly put it like that, but you get my drift.

Except language, kiddies. And enjoy this chapter.

And, for the record, the one Canadian athlete I wanted to win gold ever since he did the "Get to Know Your Athletes" thing before the movies at Cineplex won gold! It's Jon Montgomery who competes in the men's skeleton event, which tells you how crazy he is. And how awesome. I said to Shauna when we saw him: "I like him. I hope he wins." And he did! GOLD FOR MONTGOMERY!

**Next Chapter: Plans to Be Made. **


	3. Chapter Three: Plans to Be Made

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

**

* * *

**  
**Chapter Three: Plans to Be Made**.  
Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.

* * *

When Dean returned to the motel around four in the morning, it was with three fast food bags and a take-out tray laden with two drinks; he'd been lucky to find a twenty-four hour fast food restaurant. He set the food on the small table in the room, surprised to see Amelia and Sam asleep—on one of the beds and the couch respectively—but he wasn't at all surprised to find Asher sitting on the other bed, looking freshly washed, stitched and very, very uncomfortable. She was again dressed in her bra and pyjama shorts, but this pair was bright blue and black plaid instead of the more colourful ones she'd been wearing before. She'd probably had to change when she ripped her stitches in the bathroom. She looked up when Dean walked in and the anger dropped from her face for a brief second. The reaction was most likely due to the food because when her eyes met Dean's, she flushed and retuned her gaze to the bedspread in front of her.

"You know," Dean said quietly as he dropped one bag of cheeseburgers on the bed in front of her, "you're going to have to get over your embarrassment sooner or later."

She flushed deeper, her skin darkening to an almost purple-red, but she kept her eyes on the food, unwrapping the first burger and inspecting it. Asher only liked cheese and ketchup on her burgers and since Dean knew that, she was satisfied and took a large bite out of the sandwich in her hands.

"What happened wasn't that bad, Ash," he said, changing the tone of his voice to try and get a response.

Finally, she obliged. "How was it not that bad? I passed out _on top _of you." There was an edge of pain in her voice, but she masked it and without any outward signs on pain, it would have been hard to tell her cornucopia of wounds was hurting her at all. If their respective siblings hadn't been asleep, Asher probably would have yelled at him.

Dean took a bite of his cheeseburger, chewed and swallowed before answering, noticing as he did so that Asher was just finishing her first burger. "You were veeery drunk, Ash. I'm surprised you made it as far as you did."

That elicited a smile from the surly woman, but she quickly turned it into a scowl and tried to glare at him; she'd never been mad, just embarrassed and for Asher, the only way to deal with that was to get angry. "Oh shut up," she snapped before taking a bite out of her second burger. "For what's it worth, I'm sorry it happened. I... don't normally let myself get that drunk—"

"Ash, don't even worry about it."

They lapsed into a silence neither comfortable nor uncomfortable as they ate. Asher wolfed through her first three burgers, downed half the Coke Dean had got her, and then started in on her last two which the elder Winchester had to fetch from the third bag and take over to her. She thanked him with a nod and started into the food, but at a much slower pace; as he sat back down, Dean noticed that most of the bruising around her wounds was starting to look like it had been healing for a few days.

"Did you get a hold of Bobby?" Asher asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I don't know. Sam called him while I went out for food." Again, silence. This time however, Dean was the one to break it. "How are you really doing, Ash?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

She sighed heavily, the tension in her face vanishing and she let some modicum of pain show. For a second, she looked at Amelia, probably making sure she was actually asleep and not going to overhear what she was about to say. Dean understood the concern. As the older siblings, it was their job to be strong, or at least to appear that way. "I hurt," she said eventually, her voice shaking like she was on the verge of tears. "I hurt a lot. A lot more than I've ever hurt before." Asher turned to look at Dean, her blue eyes hard. "I feel like if I move even the tiniest bit the wrong way that I'll fall apart. But," she continued before Dean could interject, "I know I'm going to heal in a couple of days, maybe less with all this food, and then I'll be able to fight. So there's no point in getting upset about it." She hid the pain again and finished the last of her food.

"Are you really just going to sit around here until you're healed?"

"No."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes momentarily, wondering how he had ended up having the dreaded discussion. "Ash," he said slowly, "I think you should sit this one out." Dean was positive that this time, if Amelia and Sam hadn't been asleep, she would have yelled, but he cut her off before she could even speak. "Look, I know you're tougher than your average bear—or wolf in this case—but you've already taken one hell of a beating. How much more do you really think you can take?"

He watched the urge to yell and probably hit him cross her face. "Not much." She sighed again and climbed gingerly off the bed, wincing as she moved towards the table. "Take the bed. Get some sleep."

"What about you?"

Asher stopped when she was in front of her fellow hunter and looked down at him, her severe face softened somewhat, a strange haze coming over her eyes. "I won't be able to sleep anyway," she whispered.

Dean grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, pulling her towards him until her knees bumped gently against his. "What is it about this hunt that's got you so worked up?"

"I'll tell you after you get some sleep. We don't need more than one sleep-deprived hunter on this one, especially when that sleep-deprived hunter is a bitchy werewolf." She gave him a rare, real smile, although it was dulled around the edges. "So get some sleep. I'll keep watch and wake you up if anything happens."

Dean eventually got up and took Asher's seat on the bed. He kicked his boots off and sat cross-legged on top of the covers, but he didn't take his eyes off her. "You know we hunted down a nest of vampires not that long ago with our Dad."

"Oh? And how did that go?"

"What? The hunt or seeing Daddy dearest again?"

Asher lifted her shoulder a tiny bit in what would probably have been a shrug if she hadn't been stitched six ways to Sunday. "Either. Both."

"Wait, why are you being so calm today? Normally, you would have called me about eighty different names by now."

"Oh, Amelia gave me a painkiller when you went out for food. I have to take a handful of them or else they don't work. Of course, that means I get side-effects normal humans wouldn't and they won't last anywhere near as long. So you should go to sleep before you flip my wolf switch and I turn back into super-bitch, asshat."

"Ah, that's more like it."

After that, Dean hit the hay, leaving Asher awake and sitting on the edge of the chair to keep her back from touching the chair and hurting her more. Once she was certain her three companions were asleep, the werewolf bit off a sob and covered her mouth as she began to cry silently. She wasn't going to show her pain in front of the others, especially not Amelia. For some reason, she felt better about showing her weakness to Dean, probably because when they'd worked together the first time and he'd seen her freak out about a dead little girl, he hadn't said a word. As tough as he acted, Dean had a good heart and he cared about his friends. He cared about Asher and Amelia and Asher, as much as she was reluctant to admit it, cared about Sam and Dean. She cared about Dean a lot.

At some point near dawn, the sound of a classic car engine sounded outside, startling Asher out of the trance-like state she had entered. Since she wasn't expecting anyone, she stood up, her joints popping as they shifted after hours of remaining in the same position, grabbed her hand gun and proceeded towards the window; with the healing stitches, her arms were too tight to handle the sawed-off or anything larger, so the nine millimetre it was.

Over the past few hours, her wounds had healed quite substantially, so Asher was able to move silently and peer out the window without being seen. A Camaro that looked like it had been pieced together from other cars of the same make was parked beside the Impala, and there was a middle-aged man behind the wheel, wearing a baseball cap and plaid shirt. There was a thick beard on his face and something like a permanent scowl on his face. Seeing who it was, Asher dropped out of her defensive crouch and exited the room, dressed minimally as she had been since the attack.

"Hey Bobby. Glad you could make it to our vampire hoe-down," she said.

The older man climbed out of his car, a bag slung over one shoulder and a smaller bag under his other arm. "Well hell Ash, don't you look like shit."

"Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too."

Asher smiled and managed to give Bobby a quick and light hug around his luggage as he asked, "Did you try and take on the nest by yourself?"

"Something like that. I'm assuming you brought Dead Man's Blood and some spare decapitating tools?" Asher asked as they headed inside.

Bobby nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by Dean appearing in the door, dressed only in his jeans. "Hey Bobby," he said. "Good to see you again. It's been a long time." Bobby mumbled a greeting and pushed past Dean, probably wanting to set down his bags. Dean, on the other hand, turned and looked at Asher. "Huh. You look a lot better than last night, Ash," he said, a hint of his normal, slightly-sleazy smirk tugging at his lips.

She scowled and slapped him in the gut with her gun as she pushed past him back into the room. "Touch my ass and I'll shoot you in the balls."

"Wasn't even thinking about it."

Inside the motel room, Asher and Dean found Sam and Amelia awake and engaged in conversation with Bobby, even if they both looked a little bleary-eyed. Amelia was rapidly filling Bobby in on what they had seen and Sam was making coffee. Asher proceeded straight over to Sam, who handed her a steaming mug and then she sat on the bed next to Amelia, who started checking her wounds as soon as she was finished explaining the situation. Dean took the offered mug from Sam and sat down on the other bed.

"Well I can't say I approve of your methods so far," Bobby said, looking at Asher in particular.

"Look, can we drop the reprimands? I know what I did wasn't too smart."

Bobby half-rolled his eyes, but dropped the topic. "All right then. Do we have a plan?"

"Not really. How the hell are we supposed to take on a nest of like fifty vampires?" Dean asked. "We've never even heard of a nest this large. They're supposed to be nearly extinct and only live in nests of eight or ten."

"It seems all the vampires in the area have grouped together."

"Maybe. But the question remains, how do we deal with them? We can't just rush a nest that big."

The group of hunters lapsed into silence, all of them thinking up and answer to Bobby's query, or trying to, at least. "If we go at the place from five different angles, they can't rush us all," Amelia said. "I know it's not ideal, but we should be able to knock a bunch of them down with the Dead Man's Blood from the walkways before we have to fight any of them."

"That isn't ideal, but the least we can do is scout the place," Sam said. "At least with the five us there, we stand a better chance of getting away with everyone in once piece."

The subtle glance at Asher was not missed. "Would everyone just drop the fact that I got myself torn to shit?" she barked. "Let's just suit up and take these fuckers out, okay? I am sick of this hunt already and we haven't even done anything." She stood up and looked at everyone in turn before she put her empty coffee mug down on the table, grabbed her bag and proceeded into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Dean looked at Amelia. "Will _you _tell us what her problem is?"

For a second, Amelia looked like she was going to tell the boys, but she closed her eyes and shook her head, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders and momentarily concealing her face. "I'm not exactly sure what's bothering her, but anyway it's her place to tell you."

"She's right though. If we're going to do this, we should do it soon." Bobby looked at the boys. "Are we waiting for anyone else?"

"I called our Dad, but he hasn't got back to us yet," Dean said. "He was just going to take care of something before we head out and try and find The Demon. If he's going to get back to us at all, it should be soon."

Bobby nodded and the group of hunters started moving about, getting ready to head into the city after the vampires. Asher emerged from the bathroom dressed in her usual black skinny jeans and boots, but instead of a tank top or fitted t-shirt like she normally wore, she was wearing a very large man's black t-shirt. Amelia took over the bathroom as Asher started loading up her arsenal, reluctantly accepting help from Dean, who was already dressed and ready to go. He helped her into a specially made shoulder holster, rigged to hold two machetes instead of guns, and was helping her into her bomber jacket when Bobby approached them.

"Should you really be fighting, Ash?"

She gave him a nasty glare and slid her shotgun into its holster on her thigh. "I'm fighting."

Dean looked at their mentor. "We had this conversation last night."

The discussion was cut short as Amelia came out, all ready to go. She was dressed similarly to her sister in blue jeans, boots and a bright green shirt. Her favourite chestnut cowboy hat was on her head and her hair was done in a low ponytail at the base of her neck. The tops of knives could be seen sticking out of her boots, and another was strapped to her leg. With everyone ready, the group headed out to their vehicles and, following directions from the girls, headed towards Oklahoma City and the warehouse where the nest lived.

As they entered the city limits they ran headlong into more traffic, making it difficult for the three vehicles to proceed in a line. They switched to conversing over cell phones so no one would get lost. Eventually they made it to the quiet and nearly abandoned area of town where the warehouse was located and pulled into a parking lot, sheltered and hidden from the road by a complex of tall buildings. Asher hopped out from behind the steering wheel of her truck and vaulted over the side of the bed, landing smoothly in a crouch as the Impala and Bobby's Camaro rolled to a stop on either side of the girls' vehicle.

"I see your feeling better," Sam said as he unfolded himself from the passenger seat.

Asher just looked at him and started fishing around in the hidden, weapon-filled compartments in the bed her truck. She pulled out a leather baldric and slipped it on, tightening it until it was tight against her chest and stomach, running from her left shoulder to right hip. "Hey Bobby, toss me one of those jars of blood."

Bobby, who was digging around in the trunk of his car, paused to reach into a bag. He pulled out a regular mason jar filled with dark red blood and tossed it towards the werewolf, knowing she would catch it. Asher went about systematically dipping throwing knives into the blood before slipping them into the small slits on the baldric. Bobby had thought to bring a couple small crossbows, and Dean and Sam each had one, so everyone was loaded with something capable of infecting the vampires with the blood sickness from a distance. The Dean Man's Blood went on the bolts and machetes—one for everyone except for Bobby and Asher, who had two—and then everyone started for the warehouse, a particularly rusted building that had, at some point, had had its corrugated steel walls painted bright red; remnants of the colour could been seen, underneath the edges of the roof and on the corners.

They proceeded silently along the edge of the warehouse to a narrow staircase leading up to the door that would take them to the catwalks. The stairs groaned slightly as the parade of five climbed up, but no one appeared to stop them. Inside, there was a small platform with another staircase leading down as well as the beginning of the catwalk. Bobby and Sam headed down the stairs while Asher, Amelia and Dean started out across the narrow walkway, all with crossbows cocked and ready and Asher with her hand poised to grab a throwing knife.

But there was no one there.

"_FUCK!_" Asher bellowed, slamming her fist into the railing. The entire structure rattled with the force of the blow and Amelia and Dean both started at the impact.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled.

But the werewolf didn't answer. She turned around, pushed past Amelia and Dean and stormed down the stairs, meeting up with Sam and Bobby in the middle of the main room. Sensing what was coming, Amelia rushed forward and grabbed Asher's wrist, pulling her sister around and staring her in the eye; they were swirling, turning light blue. It was way too early for her to be changing, even if she was angry.

And she was _angry._

"Ash!" she bellowed. "Ash, calm down!"

Asher snarled and yanked her arm out of Amelia's grasp. She gestured at the room around them. "How the hell am I supposed to calm down?! We find a massive nest, I get torn to shit and _now we don't know where they are! _So tell me, Amelia, how am I supposed to calm down?"

Dean advanced on Asher and got right into her face, startling her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the scowling hunter cut her off. "Asher, calm down!" She took a step back and Dean grabbed her, keeping her in front of him so he could keep his gaze locked on her eyes. "ASHER! Calm the fuck down and tell us what is wrong!" He kept her gaze for a moment, watched her eyes swirl again, turning their normal bright blue and she mumbled something, sagging slightly in Dean's grasp. "What was that?" he asked, his voice less snappy than before.

"AUSTIN!"

Amelia gasped, her face a mask of shock. "Ash... is that what this whole thing is about?"

"What?" Bobby asked, looking from sister to sister. "What is this about girls?"

Asher turned sharply, her face once again a mask of anger. This time however, it didn't last long. "Bobby... Vampires killed Austin. We haven't found them yet."

"And you thought this nest might be where they are?" Bobby's voice had become a little rough, like he was going to yell or something.

"Well why wouldn't it be?" Asher snapped.

"What are the chances, Ash? Really?"

Asher advanced on Bobby, stopping less than a foot away from the older man. "I am _not _giving up on find that thing. I am going to find the vampire that killed Austin and I am going to rip it to shreds before I cut its head off. I am not going to give up. There is a small chance that I'll find it here and I'm going to believe in that chance until proved otherwise!" The last word came out as a yell.

Bobby put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, just cool your jets girl."

Asher huffed and ran her hands backwards through her hair. She turned sharply again and stormed towards the door, tossing the keys at Amelia as she passed. Amelia, Sam, Dean and Bobby all looked at each other before following their angry companion back to where the cars were parked. Asher was sitting in the bed of the truck, leaning against the rear of the cab, her knees pulled up to her chest and her face pressed to her knees. She was breathing deeply and looked up she heard the others approach.

"You all right Ash?" Amelia asked, stepping close to the edge of the bed and placing a hand on her sister's arm.

"I'll be fine. You drive."

Back at the motel, Asher went immediately into the bathroom to have a hot shower, Amelia and Sam set about researching possible locations for the vampires to have disappeared to, Dean started cleaning the drying blood off the weapons and Bobby went out to wrangle up some good; when research needed to be done, going out for grub wasn't an option. Whatever they were going to do to take care of the vampires was going to have to wait until the next day so they didn't run out of daylight. The sun may not kill the vampires, but it sure as hell could hurt them and slow them down, and since they were going to be facing close to fifty of the fangs, they were going to need all the help they could get.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

Okay, so in case anyone was wondering, here's an approximate timeline for this fic in its entirety:

Book One, Zombies – somewhere in the first quarter of season one.  
Book Two, Vampires – somewhere in the last few episodes of season one, after they find out about vampires, but before Daddy kicks the bucket. Probably right after the episode with the vampires though, because right after that everything gets real intense real fast and then the season ends.  
One Shot, Harvelle's, Baby – in the episode where they first meet Ellen, Jo and Ash at the beginning of season two.  
Book Three, Werewolves – somewhere in the beginning of season three.  
Book Four, Angels – beginning of season four.  
One Shot, Angels Have Feelings Too – middle of season four.  
One Shot, Falling Away With You – in that span of time where Sam and Dean aren't working together.  
Book Five, Future – the future, 2014, span of that one episode is season five.  
One Shot, Of All the Gin Joints in the World – right after that episode in season five.  
Book Six, Demons – somewhere in the middle of season five.  
Book Seven, Carthage – in the episode where they go to Carthage, in season five, when Ellen and Jo kick it.

Clearly, there are some gaps time-wise. I'll probably come up with some more one-shots to stick in the spaces, but we'll see. The ideas keep coming... sometimes. Bah. I don't know.

School's kind of screwing with my writing mojo.

**Next Chapter: Surprise, Surprise. **


	4. Chapter Four: Surprise, Surprise

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Four: Surprise, Surprise.

* * *

Amelia didn't sleep well that night. She kept seeing Austin's body, torn up and drained, the way it had been when the girls had found him all those years before, and even after that nightmare had stopped, she kept seeing Asher getting torn to pieces. It was the same whenever they encountered vampires, so she was used to it—or at least expected it—but seeing the images in her subconscious never got any easier. Eventually, she decided to give up on getting some Zs, sat up on the couch where she had ended up sleeping and started reading by aid of flashlight until her fellow hunters began to rise.

Asher, who was healing, but still needed space so no one else tore out her stitches, got a bed to herself. She was snarling softly in her sleep, and had twisted herself into a very uncomfortable-looking position; Amelia never understood how she could sleep like that. The blankets were wound around her legs and the excessively baggy t-shirt she was wearing was pushed up almost over her breasts. Bobby was in the other bed, sleeping on his back and hadn't moved a muscle since Amelia had woken. If he wasn't visibly breathing, Amelia might have thought he was dead. He made very little sound, but the hairs of his beard moved as he exhaled. Sam had surrendered the couch to Amelia and was sleeping lightly by the far wall; he had woken up twice with Amelia, and made sure she was actually okay before going back to sleep. He was a very light sleeper, which was why Amelia was reading as quietly as she possibly could, careful not to bang the flashlight against anything as she turned pages. Currently, Sam was facing the wall and was nearly pressed against the baseboard. Dean, not wanting to sleep on the floor, had gathered spare blankets and pillows, and, for some reason, had tried to make the bathtub into a comfortable place to sleep. Periodically, Amelia heard Dean muttering, and once she thought she heard him say Asher's name.

The younger daughter of Austin Smith smiled to herself as she listened to the noises of her friends sleeping. She liked the peace of the room at that moment. No one was bickering, no one was tense and no one was ready to shoot the first thing that came to the door. It was a nice change.

But clearly, it wasn't going to last.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, the rumbling of an engine that sounded similar to Asher's truck filled the still air outside. It was heading towards their motel room. Amelia closed her book, turned off her flashlight and retrieved her handgun from between the couch cushions where she'd stashed it. Behind her, Sam was sitting up in bed, a knife in one hand; evidently it was common place for all hunters to sleep with a weapon nearby. She waved him back, keeping him quiet, and crept forward silently, pressing herself against the wall beside the window and peering out between the curtains, gun poised and ready.

There was indeed another truck driving across the parking lot. It was almost identical to Asher's truck, except it was raised on the chassis, sitting about half a foot higher off the ground. The monstrous thing parked beside Bobby's Camaro, framing it and the Impala between two massive black trucks. Amelia narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the darkness, but the windows were tinted, obscuring her view of the driver and whoever else might be inside. A rugged, ex-soldier looking man climbed out of the truck once it had come to a complete stop and the engine had cut off, a duffel bag on one shoulder and a gun in his other hand. As he headed for the door, Dean came out of the bathroom, gun in his hand, and looked, confused, at Amelia. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the small window in the door when the younger girl gestured with her gun, and then sighed and pulled the door open, admitting the stranger.

"Hi Dad," Dean said.

Amelia expelled the breath she'd been holding and sagged against the wall, obviously relieved. "Hello," she said, her voice a little less than chipper.

The elder Winchester hugged Dean and then pushed past Amelia, nodding in acknowledgement of her greeting. When he had passed, Amelia turned to Dean and raised a questioning eyebrow. Dean shrugged and they headed into the main area of the motel room where they found Sam embracing his father and Bobby and Asher sitting up in bed, the former looking pleased to see the boys' father, and the latter looking none-too-pleased about being woken up long before she probably wanted to be. Asher gave a loud, long yawn, and there was something vaguely canine in the gesture.

"Hi John," Bobby said, climbing out of bed. "It's been a long time."

John took Bobby's extended hand and shook it. "It has. How are you Bobby?"

"As good as ever. I heard these idgits have become quite the hunters."

John nodded, a small smile breaking across his face. It changed his whole countenance and then it was gone. "They have." He smiled at his boys, clearly proud, before turning to Asher, intent on finding else who was in the room. His dark eyes drifted from her to Amelia and back again before he asked, "Have we met?"

Asher climbed off the bed and stood in front of the older man, adjusting her pyjamas as she moved; her movements were still a little stiff, but miles better than it had been; food and rest did wonders for her werewolf body. "We met once when I was little and once when I was hunting a demon with my father and his dogs."

John's eyes widened as he recognized her. "You two are Austin's girls."

Asher nodded. "I'm Asher and she's Amelia."

John shook Asher's hand, and then Amelia's. "How is Austin?"

Amelia stepped farther into the room, prepared to answer to keep Asher from getting worked up again. "He was killed a few years ago by vampires."

The elder Winchester nodded and offered condolences before heading to the table and dropping his duffel on the floor beside a chair he then sat in. Everyone else took a seat and faced the new arrival, deferring the role of leader to the hunter with the most field experience in the room. "So, does someone want to fill me in on what exactly we're dealing with here?" he asked, changing the subject from the potentially painful one. "Dean was kind of vague in his message."

"It's the biggest nest of vampires I've ever heard of," Bobby started. "The girls say there's probably around fifty, and judging from the space they inhabited, I'd say they're right. They took off after Asher and Amelia got a look at them."

"Why'd they run?"

"They probably figured out what we were," Amelia answered. "And knew we'd be back with friends."

John nodded, accepting that explanation as likely. "Did you two try and take the place by yourself?"

"Oh no," Asher snapped. "We are _not _going through this again. I made a stupid mistake, got myself torn to shit. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that we've got a massive nest of vampires on our hands that we have to eradicate and quickly before they start killing someone every night." She shifted on the bed so she was sitting with her back against the headboard and crossed her arms, her face in an angry set.

"Anyway..." Amelia said, moving on. "We've found two buildings nearby that are large enough and remote enough for this nest. We were planning on heading out once the sun is completely up to see which building—if either—they're in."

"Sounds like the best option." John leaned forward on his knees and sighed. "I don't like going in not knowing where they are or exactly how many of them there are."

"This isn't an ideal situation," Dean agreed. He looked at Asher.

"What?" she snapped. "It's not my fault!"

Dean shrugged. "Nothing. Just saying this isn't an ideal situation..." He smirked.

John jumped in before his son and Asher could really start yelling at each other, or come to blows. "Asher, what did you and Amelia see when you were inside the nest?"

Asher glared at Dean for a moment longer and then turned her blue eyes to the older hunter. "A lot of fangs, all ages, both genders... they were very diverse. There wasn't any pattern." She closed her eyes, remembering. "There were two girls chained to the far war: one was unconscious and the other was struggling. A small group of the fangs were laughing at her. She screamed." Asher opened her eyes and looked at John, her irises paling a little. Dean and Amelia moved in to interfere if the need was there. "It that that group I attacked. I threw knives into as many as I could before they noticed and then ran at them. I think I killed five or six. Then Amelia yelled and I ran." Asher's eyes darkened to their normal hue and she sighed, withdrawing herself from the memories. "That's it."

There was an uneasy silence hanging over the motel room for a moment. No one was sure what to say.

Finally, it was John who broke the silence. "And you think the six of us are enough to take on a nest this big?"

"No, I don't, but we don't know or trust anyone else enough to be at our backs," Asher snapped.

To his credit, the older Winchester seemed to think about that statement for a moment before nodding his head slightly, agreeing with her caution. "We'll have to be careful then. You have Dead Man's Blood?"

"Of course," Bobby answered from the other side of the room. "I brought all the jars I had at the house."

"Long-range weapons?"

"Dad," Sam interjected. "We know how to hunt vampires. We're covered."

John looked at his youngest son for a moment and then nodded.

After the awkward exchange, everyone headed back to their respective beds, makeshift as they were. There was a brief bout of stubbornness as Asher tried to convince John to let her take the watch; she'd already had a few hours of sleep, and she didn't really need anymore. Eventually, John relented and took over the bed she had vacated. Asher changed into her jeans, a fresh baggy t-shirt and settled into the chair closest to the window, her shotgun in her lap and a cup of coffee in her hand. Sam, Bobby and Amelia settled back into their beds, Amelia pulling a pillow of her head to try and block out the pre-dawn light, and Dean stood in the middle of the room, looking at little lost.

"What's wrong with you?" Asher asked, her voice a whisper.

Dean's hazel eyes drifted over the sleeping form of his father. "I just can't believe I'm hunting with my Dad. We took out a nest of vampires a week ago and after that he disappeared, just like he did before. I didn't think he'd be coming back." After another second, Dean shook his head and looked at Asher, his usual smirk on his lips. "I see your wolf switch is fully in the on position."

"Yeah, shut up and go to bed. We've gotta go kick some vampire ass in the morning."

Dean chuckled silently before heading into the bathroom.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

OMFGBBQ I WANT TO GO TO BED FOR EVER.

I almost forgot how much I loved sleep until we went to Kyle's yesterday and Jeremy took a nap on the couch while Kyle and Shauna were playing Left 4 Dead 2 and I was writing my essay. He was like snoring and I was like... man, I wish I could take a nap in the middle of the day, but I have such a hard time sleeping in the middle of the day. (I was going to phrase that differently, but it sounded bad.)

Anyways, I have finished all my assignments for school, so now all I have to worry about are exams, but my first one isn't until Tuesday, so I have some time to do nothing and work on my FANFICTION! WOO!

So... enjoy the updates, because dude, I have a plan and I am going to update EVERY DAY. Or... at least every few days. I got lots of writing to do! So you'd better read it... RIGHT SHMEOW.

The next chapter will be longer. Promise.

**Next Chapter: Hunt Down. **


	5. Chapter Five: Hunt Down

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Five: Hunt Down.

* * *

The window glass was cool against her forehead, and there was a soft, chill breeze blowing across her neck where she had cracked the window open to keep from getting too warm in the over-crowded room; six people in a room meant for two did not a comfortable environment make. The breeze and the weight of her shotgun in her lap was familiar and comforting. What wasn't comforting was the chair arm digging into her ribs and the awkward way in which her legs had become twisted. Also, there was something heavy on her shoulder, a constant weight that was most assuredly uncomfortable. And someone was staring at her.

Asher's eyes opened slowly and she took in the rugged face of John Winchester, who was giving her a very disapproving glare, which was enough to wake her without shaking. "What?" Asher snapped, shrugging his hand off her shoulder and untangling herself into a better position.

"You fell asleep on your watch."

She pushed herself out of the chair and past the older man, running her fingers back through her black hair and ignoring the glances from the other hunters in the room. "So? It's not like we got attacked or anything. And I'm not a heavy sleeper. I would have woken up if someone tried to break in."

"You don't know that. If you're on watch, you stay awake."

Asher took a step closer to the older man and jabbed her finger into his chest, snarling as she stuck her face close to his. "I don't take orders from you."

"If you want to stay alive on this hunt, you will."

Asher's eyes flared and her lip pulled back over her teeth. "Oh really? Well I've managed to stay alive on hunts up until this point without your orders, so I think I'll continue following my _own _orders," she growled.

John seemed a little alarmed by the actual growl coming out of the young woman's mouth, but he brushed past it and knocked her hand away from him, his own anger seeping into his face. Clearly, he wasn't used to his orders being disobeyed. Before he could say anything however, Sam stepped up and wedged his tall form between Asher and his father and Dean grabbed Asher's upper arm and pulled her back towards him. While Sam talked to his father, Dean continued to pull Asher away until they were standing at the opposite side of the motel room.

"What was that for?" she snapped once they had stopped moving.

Dean let go of her arm and sighed. "My Dad's an ex-marine. He's used to giving orders and having them be followed."

"Did he order you and Bambi around?" Asher closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could feel the wolf stirring inside, and as Bobby and John Winchester didn't know she was a werewolf, it wouldn't be a good idea to start to change right in the middle of the room. It was too close to the full moon for her to get so angry.

Dean gently rubbed her arm, helping her calm down. "Yeah," he breathed. "But it wasn't so bad."

"Whatever." When Asher opened her eyes again, they were the normal bright blue, but the tightness was still there around her eyes and her mouth and there was a stiffness about her that had nothing to do with her rapidly healing wounds. "I'm going to ready to go." She sighed and brushed past Dean, grabbing her duffel on the way to the bathroom.

Inside, with the door closed and locked behind her, Asher dropped her bag on the counter and looked at her reflection n the mirror. Her face was no longer puffy and the wounds had dulled to a dark red; they were no longer angry slashes and were almost gone. She splashed cold water on her face and dried it with one of the scratchy white motel towels, scrubbing to try and wake herself up and rid herself of the last vestiges of anger; she couldn't believe John Winchester was trying to order her around. She could take care of herself, she was used to getting torn to hell. And she didn't care if he was ex-marine or whatever, she wouldn't have cared if he was the freaking president. She didn't take orders.

"Ash?" Amelia called from the other side of the door.

"What?" she asked, her voice harsher than she wanted it to be.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute."

Asher pulled her hair back into a ponytail before pulling off her pyjamas and changing into the softest bra she had, a pair of dark blue skinny jeans—her last clean pair which meant they were going to have to find someplace to do laundry soon—and a baggy black and well-worn t-shirt with a picture of Captain Kirk on it. The stitches on her back were still too sensitive to wear anything heavier or tighter than what she had chosen. Back in the main room of the motel, Asher ignored the others as she zipped up her boots and attached her belt and thigh holster. She did have to enlist Dean's help to get her fancy should holster on and loaded up, but she managed to get her throwing knife baldric on and loaded up by herself.

As she was sliding the freshly-blooded throwing knives into place, Bobby asked from his seat on the other bed, "Are you any good with those?"

"You weren't so concerned last time," she said, shoving the last of the knives into place.

"Well I'm concerned now."

"I'm a better shot with these than with a crossbow, so that'll have to do." Asher looked at Bobby for a moment before sliding her shotgun in place and slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. As she was heading out to her truck, she heard John asking Bobby what her problem was; she clenched her teeth and slammed the door behind her.

A few moments later, after Asher had stashed her duffel under the backseat of her truck and climbed behind the wheel, the others came out of the room, all stowing their bags in their appropriate vehicles; they may not have been leaving the motel, but it wouldn't do to have the maid walk in and find an array of weapons lying around. Dean climbed into the Impala, making it clear they were taking two cars, and Sam and John followed. Amelia manoeuvred herself into the backseat of the truck, leaving Bobby with the passenger seat. After she had buckled her seatbelt over her leather jacket, Amelia pulled a worn black cowboy hat over her blonde locks and tossed Asher's bomber jacket into her lap.

"I don't need it."

Bobby looked at the pilot of the vehicle, brows furrowed together as he tried to sort out the problem that was Asher. "It's freakin' cold out there girl. You'll die of pneumonia."

Asher just frowned at the older man.

Dean took point, following the directions to the first building. Amelia spent some time on the horn with Sam, confirming the details of the plan, but other than the soft music flowing through the speakers, the ride was conducted in silence. A block away from the deserted building, Dean pulled off the road and parked his beloved car in an alley that couldn't be seen from the road. Asher followed suit.

As the others hopped out of the cars and went through the final preparations, Asher sat in her truck, staring at the rusted corrugated wall, turning the alley into a dead end. Her first thought: this was not a good place to be if they needed to make a quick getaway. Her second thought: the dead end would hide them from any daytime traffic in the area, and when you were hunting the supernatural, that was a good thing. Her third thought: could she get through this without losing control and shifting in front of a group of experienced hunters, two of whom didn't know was a werewolf? Asher sighed heavily and put her head back against the headrest. If she didn't get herself shot, she was going to stress herself to death. She stared at the roof of the truck cab, unwilling to close her eyes; if she did, she was going to see Austin, and that would be too much.

Sam knocked on the window and the pulled the door open, a small frown on his face. "Are you all right?"

"Fine Bambi." She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid onto the pavement, adjusting her weapons as she moved. "I just needed a moment to... collect myself."

"Gotcha."

The temperamental werewolf looked over her shoulder and then spun around. "You... didn't say anything to either you Dad or Bobby, did you?" she asked.

Sam shook his head.

"Thanks Sammich."

"...Sammich?"

Asher flashed the tallest Winchester the best grin she could in the moment; sometimes you had to be ridiculous to survive. Increasing the pace, she fell in behind the others and split off with Dean and Sam once they reached the fire escape. The boys and Asher climbed the stairs as silently as possible while John, Bobby and Amelia headed around to the door at the loading dock. Dean, who was in point, picked the lock—Asher's particular brand of breaking and entering would alert the vampires if they were inside—and the three of them filed in, weapons poised and ready; small crossbows for the boys and a throwing knife in the hand for Asher.

"Well fuck," Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked, lowering his weapon and stepping past Asher to stand beside his brother.

"There's no one here. They never were here."

Sam looked down from the catwalk and groaned. Asher followed suit, and indeed, there was nothing but a concrete floor, a few pieces of garbage and a pile of boxes in one corner. The long shadows of the other three hunters appeared, stretched across the gray floor.

"There's nothing here!" Dean bellowed, his voice echoing in the cavernous space.

John's sigh was not quiet and not relieved. "Let's move on to the next building."

Asher opened her mouth to make some smart remark, but closed it again as she heard both Dean and Sam said "Yes, sir". She rolled her eyes and shoved the throwing knife in her hand back into is place on the baldric. Luckily, neither of the boys noticed and they started the trek back outside.

The passenger configuration remained the same on the nearly cross-city drive. It was highly unlikely the vampires would have ventured this far, but if it was the only building big enough and remote enough for a nest of that size to inhabit, they just might. The plan was the same: Asher and the boys would go up and the John, Bobby and Amelia would go around the loading dock. It was the best they could come up with. It might give them the element of surprise and enable them to take out more vampires than if they knocked on the front door, so to speak.

But the second warehouse, larger and emptier than the first, yielding just as much as the first one, that is to say, a big fat pile of nothing. There was no sign that the vampires had even passed through at any point.

Asher had nearly lost it.

Dean was currently standing in front of her, blocking everyone else's view of her, and staring into her icy eyes. "Asher," he whispered harshly. "Look at me." Amelia had already tried all the normal tactics to try and get her big sister to calm down, but nothing had worked, so she'd succumbed to Dean's assurance that he might be able to help. "Ash."

Finally, she looked at him, her eyes wolfish and her jaw clenched, the muscles working like they were trying to get around new teeth, which they very well might have been.

"You've got to calm down," he said.

She nodded. "I know, but..." She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaking breath.

"We'll find them, Ash, and we will stop them. And we'll find out if the ones who killed Austin are with them." He leaned a little closer, his hands running gently down her arms. "You can cut their heads off, all right? I won't even stand in the way."

Asher barked a bitter laugh and the rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands until they were darker, her normal colour. To the other hunters, it may have looked like she was crying, and for once, she was okay with that. It was no secret she was stressed and tears could be a natural occurrence when under stress, right? "Thanks Dean... This is bothering me way more than I thought it would. More than I was prepared for."

He squeezed her hand gently and offered a small smirk. "I won't let you change."

Had she been a little more herself, she would have had some comment about the odd phrasing of the sentence, but as it was, she nodded. She appreciated the sentiment.

They rejoined the others and once again piled into the vehicles, everyone quiet. The air around all of them was tense. The sun had reached its high point and was slowly falling towards the horizon and the time when the vampires would be more active, and, if they were smart, the time when they would move. No one was really sure what to do next, but thanks to the long drive back to the motel, all six hunters had time to think about it. It was twilight before anyone broke the silence.

"Wait. Slow down a sec," Amelia said suddenly. She sat forward in the seat, her head titled to one side.

Asher pulled herself out the trance she had fallen into and turned her wolf senses on. She heard it. A distant cry for help. She hit the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. As soon as the truck and the Impala had both come a stop, or near to one, anyway, there was a chorus of shrieks and a rush of motion. Vampires poured out from the shadows on either side of the road and piled onto the cars, obscuring the windows and blocking the doors. They dragged the hunters from their vehicles and tossed them on the deserted road.

A bulky male vampire landed on Asher, knees on either side of her stomach and proceeded to punched her in the face several times, but as he got a whiff of her, smelling all that canine locked up inside, he snarled, picked her up by the front of her shirt and tossed her aside, meaning to knock her unconscious and take her out of the fight. Asher, however, had different ideas, and used the momentum to twist in the air and land on her feet, the soles of her boots scraping across the pavement as she slid. With an animalistic snarl, she put on a burst of speed and tackled the vampire to the ground, using her own superhuman strength to drive him forward, scraping the side of his face along the road, tearing the flesh off and grinding the bone.

Another vampire, a female this time, gave a yell that sounded like a cat being mutilated, and tackled Asher from the side, her claw-like fingers digging into Asher's sides. The werewolf snarled again, this time out of pain. She bucked the vampires off and the small woman would have gone flying if her hand hadn't still been embedded in Asher's flesh. Asher grabbed her wrist and squeezed until bones popped, causing the woman to let go, and then she pushed her into the ground, knee in the vampire's stomach and one hand on the throat.

"Tell me where you're hiding or I'll squeeze your head off right now," Asher hissed.

The female fang spit in Asher's face.

She tightened her grip on the vampire's neck, the flesh underneath her fingers turning red and then beginning to darken to purple. "Tell me."

Fang-face just smiled.

A strange yell went up from one of the other vampires and the hoard pulled back, dissolving back into the shadows as if they were spawned from darkness itself. Asher looked down at the vampire she was holding, the young-looking woman struggling to get away, to run back to whatever hole they were hiding in. She gave the creature the most dangerous smile she could muster before sliding one of her machetes from the holster and chopping the head clean off.

As she straightened, Asher looked around. Several more heads littered the ground, along with the bodies they formally belonged to. John, Bobby and Sam were standing a little ways down the road, looking around, breathing heavily and still prepared for a fight.

Amelia and Dean were nowhere to be seen.

"Where are they?" Asher demanded.

Sam was the first to cross the distance, a worried, panicked look on his face. "They... took them."

"What?" The beast inside Asher growled and started pacing back and forth, trying to push out of her human form. "How could that happen?"

Sam sighed and ran his hands back over his hair; he was as worried as she was, as angry. "I don't know."

Asher turned and started towards the side of the road, the youngest Winchester barely grabbing her in time. "Let me go Sam!"

He pulled her back. "Ash! We don't know where they went and we have no way to track them—"

"Maybe you don't, but—"

"But what? Are you going to follow your nose?"

Under different circumstances, Asher might have laughed, but instead, she just huffed and started pacing, itching to get out and find her sister and Dean, and angrier than hell.

"Let's go back to the motel, okay? We'll find them tomorrow."

Asher looked up at her taller companion and nodded. "All right, Sammich."

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note.**

I passed my G2 test today! Woo!

The last few episodes of Supernatural have been EPIC and awesome. Such a good show. *maniacal laughter*

Anyways, enjoy.

**Next Chapter: Chains and Things. **


	6. Chapter Six: Chains and Things

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Six: Chains and Things.

* * *

The first thing Amelia felt when she woke up was the pain in her shoulders and around her wrists, radiating up and down her limbs and pounding in time with her pulse. She groaned and tried to look up—because, for some reason, her hands were above her head—but her shoulders protested and she gasped in pain. She was tied up and the shackles were protesting. The second thing she felt was the blood on her arms, dried to a sticky substance that pulled at her arm hair as she moved. The more she came too, the more panicked she became and the more her body started to throb; her face was swollen, her chest hurt when she breathed and one of her ankles was burning that cold burn that told her it was probably broken or, at the very least, very badly sprained. It felt like she'd gone five rounds with a Mack truck.

She _had_ gone a few rounds with a vampire last night though, and that was close enough.

As the memories came back, she groaned again, more in frustration than pain. She was tied up somewhere, waiting to become some vampire's midnight snack. She had lost the fight and now she was helpless. Asher and there others were God knew where, hopefully alive...

At the thought of her sister, Amelia spun herself around, the shackles tearing at her wrists and making her cry out in pain. She was chained to a square wooden pillar, and the corners were digging into her shoulders. All she could see was a big space that looked something like a barn. There were dark shapes piled around, moving slightly in their sleep; vampires, slumbering during daylight hours. She couldn't see any other humans—except one dried up corpse piled against the wall to her left—nor could she hear anyone else moving around.

Apparently though, someone else could hear her.

"Asher?" a familiar rough voice whispered.

"It's Amelia, Dean," she said, trying to make her voice sound insulted, but failing and sounding only as miserable as she felt. "Are you okay?" she groaned.

"I'm fine. You?"

"A little beat up, but alive and in one piece."

"Can you see anyone else?" he asked, voice still in that low, rough whisper, but this time edged with the worry Amelia had felt only a moment before.

"I think it's just us." Amelia sighed in the silence, the dreaded question hanging on the tip of her tongue. "Do you think they're... okay?"

She heard Dean shift, his chains rattling slightly. He coughed and it kind of sounded like a laugh, but Amelia wasn't sure. "Asher? She's fine. Probably beat to hell—again—but she's probably storming around the motel room trying to get the others to start looking for us." He shifted again, and it sounded like he was trying to reach something. "My Dad and Bobby are tough and have lasted through just about everything under the sun already and they're not about to get cut down in the middle of a hunt. And Sam... He's tougher than he looks. He's probably trying to calm Asher down." The pillar shook slightly, leading Asher to believe Dean was trying to either pull his chains out of the wood, his arms out of the sockets, or was trying to turn himself a way the chains just didn't want to let him go. "They're fine, Amelia. They're fine."

"I'm sure you're right," she said, although it sounded like Dean was trying to convince himself as much as her.

Amelia sighed again, half-listening to Dean shifting around on the other side of the pillar. She tried to flick a stray strand of her light blonde hair out of her eyes without the aid of her hands, and realized that she wasn't wearing her cowboy hat. After a moment of looking, she located her hat on the head of a nearby vampire, one that just happened to be moving more than the others. Was he waking up? Part of Amelia hoped so, and hoped that the vampire would come over to the pillar so she could give him a piece of her mind for taking her hat. The other part, a much larger part—the sane and rational part—hoped that the vampire did not wake up.

"Fuck. I can't reach my lock picks," Dean informed her in a very frustrated tone.

Amelia frowned at herself for forgetting that Dean always had his lock picking kit on him. Not that it mattered now, since he couldn't reach it, but she felt stupid for forgetting he had it. "Better keep it down Dean... Some of the fangs are moving around."

The two chained hunters fell into silence, both watching the supernatural creatures around them, dreading the moment when the sun set and they woke up. Of course, some of them might wake up before the sun had fully set. They weren't tied to the cycles of the sun or anything like that, but they tended to party and the sunlight burned them like a bad sunburn. Amelia caught herself staring intently at the vampire wearing her hat and shook her head before trying to force her thoughts somewhere else.

It didn't matter.

Evidently, the hat-stealing denizen of the barn had been roused by the hushed conversation and the rattling of the chains. He pushed himself to his feet, carefully untangling himself from the women sleeping around him. The creature was tall and stretched too thin, his darkly tanned skin pulled tight over the bones of his face. Amelia's hat was settled on long, stringy black hair that fell to the vampire's elbows. He was only wearing a pair of worn black jeans. There was a satisfied smirk on his face as he crept closer to Amelia, and she suddenly couldn't take her eyes off the approaching threat.

"Amelia? What's going on?" Dean asked.

"One of them woke up," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Yeah, that's right, bitch. I woke up." He leaned down until his face was inches away from Amelia's; his breath smelled like stale beer, cigarette smoke and blood. "You woke me up."

"Sorry to disturb your beauty rest."

The vampire hissed, flecks of spit settling on Amelia's face.

"That's disgusting," she said, scrunching up her features. "Please don't spit in my face. And I'd like it very much if you returned my hat." The words and tone were polite, but the look on her face was everything but. Amelia had a very real urge to scream and spit and snarl at the beast.

The vampire snarled again, his face turning very red with the effort.

"Hey fang-face!" Dean called from the other side of the pillar. "Why don't you come over here? I've got something for you."

Amelia appreciated Dean's attempt at helping, but the vampire ignored the older hunter and kept his dark eyes glued to Amelia. "I think I'll have some fun with you first..." he whispered. The vampire leaned in close to Amelia again and ran his tongue upwards along her cheek. "Mmm, you taste good..." He kissed her cheek and ran his teeth—just the normal set, not the fangs—along her skin before drawing the top of her ear into his mouth. Amelia gave an involuntary shutter and the vampire bit down, still with his human teeth.

"FUCK!" Amelia screamed as she tried not to lurch away. No point in tearing her own ear off.

The vampire laughed.

At the end of her patience, Amelia drew up her good leg and kicked the vampire in the knee with all the power she could muster. He cursed and stumbled backwards, hands wrapped around the joint as if the pressure would ease the pain. Knowing she only had a moment before the pain wore off and the super-strong vampire launched a counter attack, Amelia landed a kick square in the middle of his face, grinning with grim satisfaction when she heard bone and cartilage pop. The grin grew wider when she saw the blood pouring down the vampire's smashed face.

"That's it, bitch."

"Amelia?"

"Be quiet Dean," she ordered as the vampire opened his mouth and exposed the second set of teeth, his pointed and jagged fangs. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"I know. But there are more starting to wake up."

"Shit..."

Before she could get anymore words, curses or otherwise out, the vampire in front of her lunged for her, fangs ready to plunge into her neck, arm or whatever else they could reach. Amelia pushed herself to the side, her arms protesting loudly against her shackles, and threw her weight into the vampire, knocking him off course. He spun around too quickly for her to prepare however, and landed a punch solidly in the middle of her face, breaking her nose and sending her spiralling down into the blackness of unconsciousness.

When she woke up, she was no longer changed to the pillar, and there was something warm beside her. Amelia opened her eyes and looked up at Dean, who gave her a shaky smile from behind a mask of blood. "What happened?" she asked. "Why aren't we dead?"

"One of the vampires, I'm guessing the leader, woke up before the one who stole your hat could take a bite of you, and knocked him out of the way. He said something about needing us to get the rest of the hunters." Dean gave her a meaningful look. "They're going to kill us all to save the nest."

Amelia sighed. "Okay, so where are we now?"

"In the attic of the house. The leader brought us up here to keep us from tempting anymore vampires." Dean lifted his hands, showing that they were still shackled. There was also a chain running between his wrists and Amelia's, and a longer chain that ran down between the boards at their feet. "It's tied to the leader, so he'll know if we try to escape."

"Great."

They settled into silence again, Amelia leaning on Dean. She was glad to have her arms down from above, and she felt like she was more in a position to defend herself should they be attacked again, but she was sore and she was tired and she was covered in dried blood. She was also worried about Asher and the others and there was a hard knot of worry in her gut that told her what she already knew: that Asher and the others would come to save her and Dean and try to take out the nest and probably get them all killed. Amelia gave a shaky sigh and said a silent prayer—not something she often did—asking someone to watch over Asher and Sam and John and Bobby and asking that they all get out of this alive. She didn't think it was too much to ask, but hey, what did she know?

"So," Dean said, breaking the silence. "As long as we're chained here and beat to bloody pulps without hope of an escape, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. If I can ask one first?"

"Shoot."

"Have you tried to pick the locks yet?"

Dean looked sheepish and Amelia knew she wasn't going to like the answer. "The leader took my lock picks and I don't have anything else that would work on me."

"And my bobby pins are all in my hat."

"Seriously?"

Amelia looked up at Dean, who looked surprised. "Yeah. Always have to have a few spares sitting around."

"Man, you and Asher and two of the most over-prepared hunters I've ever run into."

It was Amelia's turn to look surprised. "Austin taught us to always go in armed for the worst thing it could possibly be. Just in case."

Dean paused. "That makes a lot of sense."

"Anyways, you had a question?"

"Yeah... Why are you and Asher so close?"

Amelia frowned and made sure Dean saw it. "I'm not sure what you mean, Dean. Asher's my sister. If you're asking because we were both adopted, than I can kind of get you wondering."

"That's why I'm asking."

Amelia was quiet for several long minutes. She settled against Dean's arm again and stared forward at the opposite wall in the attic, following the trail of a spider until it disappeared before answering. "I don't remember anything before Asher found me wandering down the street, covered in blood. I was only six or seven, lost and scared out of my mind. She's the first person I really remember in my life and she's taken care of me since that night. We may not be related by blood, like you and Sam are, but she's my big sister." Amelia looked up at Dean, who had a strange, faraway look on his face. "You and her are a lot alike."

Dean gave a small shake of his head, bringing himself back into the present, and flashed a small grin. "So I've noticed."

"She didn't tell me you two were keeping in touch."

The older hunter gave another coughing laugh. "Somehow, I'm not surprised." After another stretch of silence, Dean said, "I think I hear movement downstairs."

"Great."

"Let's hope the cavalry arrives soon."

Amelia said another silent prayer, hoping for just that.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

So the Supernatural season finale was KICK-ASS.

I want to write some of the stuff that comes later, but I'm doing this fanfiction epic in order. I also need to do some re-working of the planning.

Anyways, ONTO MORE STAR TREK.

And then more Supernatural. *wink*

Enjoy, please!

**Next Chapter: Dead Man's Blood. **


	7. Chapter Seven: Dead Man's Blood

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Seven: Dead Man's Blood.

* * *

The air inside the truck's cab was thick with tension. Asher was behind the wheel, her knuckles white and her jaw clenched when she wasn't muttering incoherently under her breath. John Winchester was in the passenger seat and he kept shooting the driver suspicious looks which went ignored. Bobby and Sam were sitting the back seat, the former watching his companions and the latter steaming almost as much as the resident werewolf, but while Sam was also wound, he was keeping an eye on Asher; it wouldn't do to have to her change with John in the front seat.

They had left the Impala at the motel for several reasons. One, the truck held more equipment and there was room for everyone; two, Sam was beyond positive that Dean would pitch a fit if anything happened to his baby; and three, Asher simply would not drive the Impala.

The plan was simple. They were going to drive to the spot on the highway where they were attacked and then split up and try to find anywhere the vampires could be hiding. John had walkie-talkies, so the two teams could stay in touch, but none of the four hunters were particularly keen on venturing off in pairs: Bobby and Sam would be one team and John and Asher the other. When Asher had protested the arrangement, John had asked her why, and when she couldn't give him a reason, he'd yelled at her for wasting time. Regardless of how against following the elder Winchester's Asher was, she had had to cave if she wanted to get anything done as Bobby and Sam had fallen under John's control almost instantly.

When they reached the spot on the highway, Asher pulled her mammoth truck onto the gravel shoulder and the hunters piled out and headed around to the bed of the pickup. Sam stepped in front of Asher as she climbed out of the driver's seat.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She raised one eyebrow at the tension in the tall man's voice. "No, I'm not Bambi. But I'm not going to change and I'll be fine once I know Dean and Amelia are alive."

Sam seemed to accept this answer, as he turned and joined the older men at the tailgate.

The four hunters armed themselves with crossbow bolts and throwing knives dipped in Dead Man's Blood. Sam helped Asher get into her sword holster, all the while the four hunters keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of movement; it may have been daylight, but the vampires could still have scouts out and about.

"Okay," John said when everyone was armed to the teeth. "Bobby and Sam, you two take the left and Asher and I will take the right. Radio in as soon as you find anything and we'll meet up before we hit the target." His dark eyes found Asher and he narrowed his gaze. "No one do anything stupid; don't be a hero. Top priority is to get Dean and Amelia out alive. We can always hit the nest again."

Asher scowled loudly, but didn't say anything.

Bobby and Sam shot Asher identical looks of warning before they headed into the long grass of the field to the left. Scowling again, Asher lifted her sawed-off—they might meet something other than vampire, something that regular old bullets could take out—and scrambled down the slope into the field of corn on the right-hand side of the road.

Asher and John proceeded in silence through the field, the more experienced hunter a few steps ahead of the young woman; Asher's face didn't relax from a scowl for the entirety of the walk. They marched forward for close to ten minutes until John stuck his arm out in front of Asher, cutting off her progress. She bit off a snarky remark when John pointed into the distance, at a large white farmhouse with three red barns surrounding it in a rough semi-circle. There had to have been close to thirty cars parked haphazardly around the structures, all of varying makes, models and degrees of newness.

John lifted his walkie-talkie from his belt. "We've got the nest," he said quietly. "About ten minutes in. White farmhouse, three red barns."

Asher could just hear Bobby say, _"Gotcha."_

She took a step forward, but John stopped her with his arm again. "We wait," he snapped.

Asher scowled again, but instead of fighting, she returned her shotgun to its holster on her thigh and bent over to touch her toes. This gesture however, turned out to be a mistake as John shot her a dark gaze.

"Doesn't that hurt your stitches?"

Asher returned to an upright position, mentally cursing herself for her carelessness. "It does," she said, forcing herself to make eye contact; under the full force of John Winchester's gaze, Asher thought she might have understood why Sam and Bobby, both grown, intelligent men, seemed so willing to bend to the man's will. He had seen it all and was clearly skilled; Asher recalled something about him being a marine. "But I need to stretch," she added.

John didn't say anything else on the matter, but his eyes remained dark and Asher caught several more suspicious glances as they waited for Bobby and Sam to join them. After a few more moments of the waiting in tense silence, the rest of the hunters appeared through the corn and the group set off, moving quickly and quietly towards the house, using the copious amounts of cars for cover and always being sure to keep something between them and the windows. They reached the main building and pressed themselves against the board, John gesturing towards the centre barn, where most of the cars seemed to be concentrated.

Asher made to follow the directions, but something fell on her head. "Fuck," she breathed, looking up.

Dean wiggled his eyebrows from a tiny window at the top of the house.

Immediately, John, Bobby and Sam started looking for a way into the house, their motions slightly more frantic now that they knew where their son, brother and friends were hiding. Asher rolled her eyes and looked up the wall. The boards were old, but well-maintained; she had a sneaking suspicion that the vampires had used the former owners of the house as snacks before moving in. She quickly made sure all her weapons were secure and double-checked that no one was watching her before she bent her knees and jumped much higher in the air than any normal human, even a professional basketball player. Asher grasped the wide sill on the second-storey window and pulled herself up just enough to peek inside: no one. She scrambled up until she was standing on the sill and then, now that she was safely out of immediate viewing range, closed her eyes and concentrated on her hands.

When the full moon was close, Asher could sometimes perform a semi-transformation, and it was easier when she was emotional. Focusing her anger into her hands, she could feel the bones shift and grow and soon, she was able to dig her newly formed claws into the wooden siding and pull herself up to the small attic window.

"Ash!" Amelia snarled in a whisper. "What do you think you're doing? They could see!"

Dean was staring at her half-wolf claws. "What—"

Asher held up a hand to silence him. "We'll have time later." She grabbed the chains binding her friends with her hands and pulled, the metal giving under her supernatural strength. "How many vampires are in the house?"

"As far as we can tell, just the leader and those closest to him, I'm guessing," Amelia said.

Asher slid her swords out of the holster and handed one each to Amelia and Dean. "Give me a number."

Amelia shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't actually seen them."

"I've counted six different voices," Dean said.

Asher nodded. "All right. We're going to try and get out of here as quietly as possible. Only kill the vamps if you can do it without waking them all up."

Amelia and Dean nodded. The trio managed to make it down to the upper floor and kill the three vampires asleep up there without waking anyone. They were almost at the bottom of the rickety staircase when they were spotted by a very sleepy-looking vampire. Asher, who had a throwing knife in hand and ready, tossed it and the blade sunk into the fang's neck. Amelia leapt into action next, vaulting over the banister and decapitating the vampire in one smooth motion.

Silence settled around them and they waited, straining to hear any noises that would indicate the other vamps had started moving around. Confident they weren't about to be jumped, Asher, Amelia and Dean made their way towards the front door. As they passed the living room, Amelia tapped Asher on the shoulder and pointed to a tall, thin fang sprawled on the couch. He was wearing jeans and a baggy t-shirt and there were motorcycle boots discarded on the floor by his feet. Asher knew without asking that this unassuming being was the leader of the massive nest. Against her better judgement, she crept across the floor towards the vampire.

Dean and Amelia scowled in tandem and dispatched of the two other vampires in the room and quickly checked the adjoining kitchen and dining room. There were no others.

But, as soon as Asher was within arm's length of the vamp leader, his eyes opened and his hand shot out to wrap around Asher's neck. "What are you doing here, wolf?" he hissed.

Asher was too happy to snarl in an animalistic way at the man, her lip pulling back over her teeth. "Killing you and your brood," she spat.

The vampire squeezed harder, making Asher choke. "Alone?"

"She's not alone," Dean announced from the back of the room.

The vamp leader's head turned and he growled louder, his hand tightening more on Asher's neck; her face started to turn a deep shape of red. He opened his mouth and let out a strange growl.

"They won't come," Asher managed. "We've killed all the ones in the house. And you're next." Taking the silent cue, Amelia and Dean ran outside to join the others. Asher pulled her shotgun out of its holster and aimed it at the vamp's face, even as her vision started to blur; she could hardly get a breath.

"Your gun won't hurt me, wolf." The vampire leader rose to his feet, pulling Asher with him, still holding on to her by her neck.

Asher just did her best to grin nastily at him and pressed the mouth of her shotgun against the vampire's neck, pulling the trigger twice in quick succession. The close range of the shotgun tore his neck to pieces, nearly decapitating him. He dropped Asher, but before she could overcome a sudden coughing fit and finish the job, the leader started to heal. Asher was shocked—she'd never seen a vampire heal that fast. Instead of doing something stupid, she scrambled from the house, into the sunlight where she knew the vampires would be weakened.

Still coughing, she met up with the other hunters, all standing in a group, crossbows pointed towards the barns and the house. A flood of vampires could be seen in the doors of the barns, waiting to break free and overwhelm the hunters.

However, the rapidly healing leader seemed to have sent them signal to stop.

The hunters had no such signal. They all began firing the Dead Man's Blood-covered crossbow bolts into the waiting vampires, and soon, pitiful moaning filled the air.

"STOP!" the leader roared as he came out onto the front porch of the house.

The hunters did not listen; Asher, who was out of range of the vampires in the barn, threw three knives at the leader, who laughed and withdrew the blades from his torso. However, he did pale and lean against the railing for support.

"Stop killing us," he said.

"Why should we?" Dean and Asher bellowed together.

"Because you're killing my family."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

I'm not going to apologize for the length of time between updates because hardly anyone reads this fic aside from Shauna. Or at least, no one I hear from... *shameless plug for reviews*

Anyways, there are three more chapters of this fic and then the first one shot of several in this epically long thing called Monster Hospital. I can't wait for Supernatural to start up again. I miss the boys. And I need to have those questions they left us with answered. RUGG. Enjoy!

**Next Chapter: Just Trying to Live. **


	8. Chapter Eight: Just Trying to Live

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Eight: Just Trying To Live.

* * *

Asher snarled at the vampire leader, her back arching and her hands balling in tight fists. After one look, Dean and Amelia both realized what was happening and they moved closer to the temperamental woman to keep her from shifting; in the presence of two hunters who didn't know, that would be an especially bad idea. The head vampire moved off the porch and onto the lawn, stepping into the sun, wincing as the light burned his flesh. Asher snarled louder, baring her teeth, which had sharpened noticeably.

"Please," he croaked angrily. "These vampires are my people, my friends and my family."

John and Bobby stepped in front of the younger hunters, crossbows put away and weapons more suitable for beheading a vamp out and ready. They were ready to fight. Asher, who was still snarling, had collapsed to her knees and Dean was on the ground beside her, trying to calm her down; Amelia had taken several steps forward and was pointing towards the far side of the house, where another group of vampires was starting to converge. She returned to her sister's side and whispered something that brought the snarling to a stop. But only temporarily.

Asher bellowed, broke free of Dean's grasp and approached the leader, weapons forgotten on the ground behind her. "They killed my father!" she roared, pointing to the new vampires on the scene, the one Amelia had been staring at. "GIVE ME A BETTER REASON NOT TO KILL ALL OF YOU!"

Her blue eyes were light and her face looked more severe. Dean tried to grab her arm, but she shook him off.

"We're just trying to live, hunter."

"BY KILLING PEOPLE? BY KILLING MY FATHER?"

The head vampire took several steps towards Asher, but had to stop as the strain from the sunlight nearly drove him to his knees. His pale skin had started to turn bright red and a few blisters were appearing near his hair line; the ends of his hair had started to smoke, like he was going to burst into flame at any minute. "Are you any better?" he hissed. "We kill for food, to survive." His eyes were locked on Asher and he seemed to have forgotten about the other hunters. "You run around the country, killing anything supernatural you come across just because they're different."

Asher snarled and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her eyes had gone the white-blue of her other form, and the skin of her hands and wrists had started to bubble. She couldn't seem to stand up straight. "We kill to protect innocents from dying," she growled, her voice much deeper than before.

"What's happening to her?" John demanded from somewhere behind the wolf.

He went ignored.

"You could survive on animals," Sam interjected, stepping up to stand beside Asher. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and Dean did the same on the other side. Amelia was standing behind her sister with her arms crossed. The contact seemed to quell the beast a little bit. "My brother and I found a nest a while ago that lived only on cow blood."

The leader seemed impressed at Sam's diplomatic attempt. "We have been draining animals, but with numbers this high, it's hard to control everyone." He winced at the blisters on his face began to pop.

"You can't keep killing people!" Asher growled.

Dean grabbed Asher around the waist and hauled her off, regardless of her injuries. The leader of the vampires watched them, his eyes slightly narrowed out of more than pain.

"They killed Austin," she panted when Dean had her in the shade of some trees. Her hands flexed on his chest and she pulled herself close to him, her breaths snarling as she exhaled. "They killed Austin..."

Dean wrapped his hands around her arms and then hugged her quickly, not wanting to display much emotion in front of such a large audience. "Ash, I know. You want revenge, you want to kill them, but you have got to calm down."

Asher continued to seethe. So Dean stepped back and slapped her.

She bit off a scream and shook her head. Her eyes were back to normal, and her skin had stopped shifting, but she was still steaming with anger.

"Do they know what you are?" the vampire leader called. The exertion seemed to cause him pain.

Asher was aware of John and Bobby staring at her, but she ignored their curious glances as she returned to the group of hunters and vampires. She glared at the vampire leader and stepped close to his sizzling flesh. She bared her teeth again, and the sense Dean had slapped into her seemed to vanish. "It doesn't matter what I am," she hissed. "And it doesn't matter if they know. I'm going to kill you and your nest."

"You're bleeding," the leader said, noise wrinkling.

Asher looked down and saw lines of blood on her t-shirt front; some of the stitches had ripped. She growled and closed her eyes as the pain hit her, but she pushed through it. "You can't drink _my _blood."

"I know that. But it stinks."

Asher growled again and body-checked the fang, sending the two of them tumbling backwards into the porch. The boards cracked under the weight and then they were in the dark space beneath the deck, Asher straddling the fang and her hands around his neck. There was a bit of a commotion outside, but no one came under the deck, probably because the vampires didn't want to get too close to the hunters, who were standing in the sun, and vice versa.

"I will squeeze your head off, fang."

"You hunters are all the same," he croaked. "Kill first, ask questions later."

"Why should we spare you any consideration? You slaughter people."

"Your kind is no different."

Asher squeezed his neck tighter, her nails digging into flesh. "Hunters only kill to protect!"

"I wasn't talking about hunters."

Startled, Asher's grip loosened and the fang used that moment to summon the strength he'd gained from being in the shade and tackle Asher backwards. They went through the boards at the other end of the porch and tumbled out into the sunlight. At some unvoiced signal, several vampires leapt on top of the wolf, allowing the leader to extract himself from the fracas and approach the more rational hunters; behind him, the vampires pinned Asher to the ground, trying hard not to snarl in pain as the sun burned them.

"What is the matter with her?" John was asking Amelia.

Amelia screwed up her features and pointed to the vampires holding Asher down. She went with only a half-truth. "That group used to be a separate nest. They killed Austin."

John and Bobby looked towards Asher who was indeed snarling and looked like she was trying to bite the vampires in the face; Dean looked like he was trying to keep from running to help her. There were tears on her face and she looked angrier than any of the assembled hunters had ever seen her.

"Your little wolf has quite the temper," the leader said.

Sam stepped up before John or Bobby could say anything. "You've got to break up the nest," the tallest Winchester said. "You can't have a nest this big focused in one area. People have already started to notice the disappearances." The leader started to protest, but Sam cut him off. "Other hunters aren't even going to give you the chance to talk. They'll just come in shooting. If you don't want that to happen, you've got to split up and you've got to stick to animal blood. You've got to stop killing people."

The leader frowned, his skin starting to blister again, and considered the proposal. "Why are you giving us this chance? You're hunters."

"Because you do deserve to live, but just like humans, you can't run around killing people, even if it is to survive." Asher gave a vicious roar from behind the leader and Sam's eyes went there. "Let Asher go. She won't hurt anyone."

"She wants revenge. She's dangerous."

Dean was suddenly beside the leader. "Let her go, fang, or we will kill you."

The leader submitted with rolled eyes and gestured over his shoulder; he seemed reluctant to take his eyes off the hunters. The vampires all stood up and let go of Asher, who leapt to her feet and went back to hissing and snarling. Dean and Amelia ran to her immediately and dragged her back from the vampires who'd killed Austin. This was a tense situation; they didn't need any more bad blood. Dean was nearly pinning Asher to the ground.

"I can't just break up this nest. We're family."

Sam put on his stern face, but there wasn't a need. John and Bobby stepped up. "My son gave you a chance," John barked. "If it had been just me, I'd have killed you all or gone down fighting. I suggest you break up this mess of monsters and run for it."

The leader snarled. "You're all so confident."

"YOU CAN'T LET THEM GET AWAY!" Asher bellowed.

Dean dragged her back farther, talking to her in hushed tones. It didn't seem to be working.

"She's right Sam," Bobby said. "This is insane."

Sam looked at his father and the man who had filled in for his father on many occasions. "You didn't meet the vampires we did. They only killed animals and they were existing in a human community, but they were a small nest." He looked once more at the leader. "Smaller nests can function with humans. A nest this large has no hope. Even if we left, it wouldn't be long until someone else showed up."

A couple other vampires, a man and a woman, approached the leader. They were both tall and thin and pale and winced as they stepped into the sunlight. "I think we should take this offer," the female said, putting sunglasses on to avoid her eyeballs burning. "We have gathered quite the group."

"Yeah," the man said, "And it's getting hard to find a place where we all fit. Maybe splitting up wouldn't be such a bad idea."

The leader considered the opinions of the vampires who appeared to be his lieutenants. The skin on his face was all red and blistered and bleeding. It looked extremely painful, but he seemed to be pushing through it remarkably well.

But not before Asher pulled away from Dean and got up in the leader's face. "I want those responsible for the death of my father!"

The leader glared and bared his fangs. "Not on your life, wolf."

"Why does he keeping calling you that, Ash?" Bobby asked.

"I'll tell you later, Bobby." Asher kept her gaze on the fangs in front of her. She didn't want to see Bobby's face and she didn't want to see John's. She felt like she'd betrayed Bobby in keeping this secret, but she just didn't want to look at John because he intimidated her. "You didn't want us to kill your family, but they killed mine!"

"Because he was trying to kill them!"

The leader and Asher got up in each others' faces again, snarling. The vamp lieutenants grabbed their leader and Dean hauled Asher away again.

"Look," the leader said, gathering his self control about himself again, "We'll break up the nest. We'll move around the country and we'll stop killing people. This is my family and I don't want to see them die." The leader sighed heavily and ran his fingers back through his hair, the gesture pulling at the skin on his face in a grotesque way. He turned to Asher, swallowed his pride and said, "And I'm sorry you lost your father to us, even though he was out for blood."

Dean slapped his hand over Asher's mouth before she could say anything.

"You had better keep to those promises," John said. "Because we will come back for you."

Amelia stepped forward and pointed at the vampire still wearing her hat. "And can I get my hat back? It's my favourite one."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

So Supernatural season six is getting close... *dances*

That's... all I have to say. Only two chapters left!

Wow. I'm insightful, aren't I?

**Next Chapter: Are You Insane? **


	9. Chapter Nine: Are You Insane?

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Nine: Are You Insane?

* * *

A very unhappy John joined Bobby and Sam to finish the negotiations with the vampire leader while Amelia retrieved her hat and Dean hauled Asher into seclusion behind a row of mismatched cars. He slammed her into one of the junkier models, her head crunching against the door and her eyes rolling back in her head momentarily. She groaned loudly and did her best to glare at Dean, but when she found she couldn't muster up the gumption to do so, she settled back against the car and put her head in her hands.

Dean fell on the ground beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders, even though physical contact might not have been the best idea with a werewolf on edge. When she leaned into him, he tightened his grip on the young woman and pressed his lips to her temple. "You going to be okay, Ash?"

"Shut up, asshat."

For once, Dean listened, and for a few minutes he and Asher sat in silence, listening to the voices behind them. After what seemed an eon, Asher lifted her head and looked at Dean with eyes their normal deep blue. Her skin had stopped rippling completely and her teeth were back to normal, as was her posture. She gave Dean a moment of pause when she nuzzled her head against his neck in a very dog-like way, but it passed and she was still herself.

"Sorry for freaking out, Dean, but... _fuck_, seeing those vampires..." She groaned again and shoved the heels of her hands into her eyes.

He rubbed her back in small circles, slowly working down to the small of her back, a spot he knew would help calm her down; that time they'd spent together had taught both of them a lot of tricks. "Don't worry, Ash. No one got hurt—aside from me and my pride when I got captured, but we'll deal with that later—and it looks like we're going to get out of this without any bloodshed. I know you wanted revenge," he added quickly, "but isn't this better?" It was lame, but it was all he had. He knew how she felt, he wanted revenge on the thing that he killed his mother, but this seemed like a very different situation.

Asher glared at him, but some of the anger had gone from her blue eyes. "Yeah, I guess you're right..." She quite suddenly threw her weight into his side, nearly knocking him over, but she was laughing a little, so it was a playful gesture. "I hate it when you're right."

He playfully punched her arm. "It doesn't happen often enough for you to hate it."

Asher leaned into Dean again and stretched her legs out in front of her, exposing her stomach. Dean took in the lines of blood and then looked up at her, but she shrugged. "I'm a werewolf, remember? I'll be fine."

"Still. I'd get Amelia to look at you once we get back to the motel."

"You just want to see me half-naked again."

Dean laughed. "Ash, I've seen you completely naked."

She shoved him again. "Shut up." The werewolf winced and wrapped one arm around her middle, showing her pain to Dean, the only person she seemed capable of confiding weakness in. "It does hurt a bit. And I'm fucking hungry again."

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, Amelia, hat back on her head, traipsed around the cars and squatted in front of her sister and her friend, and she was followed closely by Sam, John and Bobby, the older hunters still looking terribly agitated; John looked downright furious. There was a clamour of noise behind the cars, which had to be the vampires moving about, but they left the hunters alone. Before Asher or Dean could inquire to the outcome of the negotiations however, John pointed the serrated blade of his sword at Asher and gestured for her to stand up.

"You have some questions to answer," he said, his voice tight.

Asher got to her feet, Dean doing the same behind her. The older Winchester boy remained standing close to Asher, because they both knew what was coming. "Before I face the Spanish Inquisition, tell us what's happening with the fangs," Asher demanded.

Bobby stepped forward, cutting his friend off. "Well, first you should know that the nest that killed Austin wasn't the only nest that got assimilated into this one. The leader agreed to split the nests back up into the original cells—apparently they formed this super nest for protection against hunters." Bobby scoffed, but continued. "All the vamps who will be leading the nests promised they would try to stick to animal blood and they're not going to make any more vampires until the numbers spread out and they won't draw attention. They're taking off tonight and we'll be back in the morning to make sure they're moving."

"How did you swing that one?" Asher asked, turning her gaze to Sam.

The most diplomatic person in the group gave a sort of half-shrug. "We shouldn't just kill them on principle, Asher. They... they were humans once, and it is possible for them to live amongst humans without harming them."

"This is in-fucking-sane," she whispered, running her hands backwards through her black hair. "Why are we letting them go? How can we believe they'll keep their promises?"

Sam, stepping into one of his moments of bravery, moved to stand in front of Asher and gave her a stern look, that wasn't quite a glare, but almost. He ignored the look Dean was giving him over his shoulder and said, "The same reason we didn't kill you, Ash."

"Someone better tell me what she is," John demanded.

It was Dean who crossed the distance between him and his Dad and removed the blade from his hand. For a long moment he just looked at his Dad, before he took a deep breath and said, "Asher is a werewolf."

Stunned silence filled the air and all eyes turned to Asher. Amelia and Dean moved back to stand beside Asher and, after a moment, so did Sam. Bobby blinked several times, ran his hands over his face and sighed heavily. He took a few steps away, turning his back on the little gathering, presumably to give himself a minute to absorb the information. John's face turned into an expression of shock and didn't change, except for when it shifted to anger, then rage and he turned his fiery eyes to his sons.

"You _knew _about this and didn't do anything? How could you work with a monster?"

"What about what we just did? Letting the vampires go?" Sam asked, keeping his nerves about him.

"We're not working with them! We're not putting ourselves in danger!" John's ire rounded on Dean and he pointed a rough hand towards his oldest son. "And you! How could you get so close to her?"

"Ash is a great hunter and she's our friend!" Sam defended.

"She's never even tried to hurt any of us," Dean stated, stepping towards his father, but not moving far enough to break his contact with Asher; he'd wrapped his arm around her, the bagginess of her t-shirt concealing the motion.

No one seemed to be able to find any words. Not wanting to endure the tension in the middle of a field surrounded by sleeping vampires, Asher pulled away from Dean, Sam and Amelia and stormed back to her truck. She climbed into the bed and chucked the keys at Amelia, who, by pure force of instinct, lifted her hand and caught them without really looking. Not wanting to be stuck in the crowded cab with all the anger and tension and probably hatred towards Asher on the part of his Dad, Dean climbed into the bed of the truck and sat across from Asher, leaning against the wheel well. The others climbed into the massive vehicle and Amelia headed back towards the motel, where no doubt, yelling would ensue.

As they were driving through the country, and she felt she could talk and be heard over the rush of the wind, Asher said, "This is ridiculous, Dean."

"What is?"

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Us. The flirting. Everything. I'm going to end up hurting you."

"Ash, I can take care of myself."

She looked up at him, raised her eyebrows and said, "Against a werewolf?"

"Well, maybe not."

They smiled at each other, warmth entering their eyes and Asher stuck her foot out to knock them against Dean's boots. He put his hand down and wrapped it around her ankle, squeezing enough that she could feel it through the leather of her own boots.

"How much do you think he's going to yell?" she asked.

"My Dad? Well... considering he raised me to fear all monsters and kill them on first sight... and now I'm arguing to let vampires go and am close to a werewolf..." Dean looked across at Asher. "A hell of a lot."

"Fuck. I hate being yelled at."

Dean blinked. "You do?"

"Well, I hated it when Austin yelled at me and your dad reminds me a bit of mine."

"You just keep surprising me."

"I have layers, what can I say?"

"So you're an ogre?"

Asher pulled her foot back and kicked Dean in the shin, a devious smirk on her face. The made the rest of the trip back to the motel in silence and they were the last the jump out of the truck when the vehicle was parked in front of their room. Dean helped Asher climb out of the truck, because the blood from her ripped stitches had dried into a tacky substance and her injuries were staring to stiffen. As they approached the motel room, Sam and Amelia stepped outside and settled themselves on the curb.

* * *

"How do you think it's going in there?" Sam asked.

Amelia leaned backwards and tilted her ear towards the motel room. "I can't hear anything, so either they're arguing in hushed tones or all standing around in silence, wondering what to say next and glaring at each other."

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Sammy?"

"For my Dad putting you and Asher through this."

"I'm not going through anything. This is all Asher. And, I'm guessing Dean." She hung her head and sighed, removing her hat to run her hands over her hair. She replaced her hat. "I told Asher she was nuts for going with it with Dean."

"I thought they hated each other until I walked in on them half-naked and making out."

Amelia burst out laughing at the mental picture of Sam's face as he took in that sight. "Oh, I bet you loved that..." After the laughter had subsided, Amelia said, "It's weird, isn't it, how two people who seem to hate each other so much can be so... well, compatible."

"Oh, I don't think they're _that _compatible."

"Okay, not really, but they get each other."

At that moment, there was a loud, wordless shout from the room behind them. There was no question that the lungs responsible for that scream belonged to Asher. With one look at each other, Sam and Amelia launched themselves off the curb and started walking around the small parking lot, looking for somewhere else to sit so they didn't have to listen to the sounds of a screaming match finally underway. Since there weren't too many other guests in the motel, they settled themselves on a bench pressed up against the wall outside one of the rooms at the other end of the L-shaped building.

"Do you wanna go for a drive?" Sam suddenly asked.

"A drive?"

"Yeah. They're going to be at it for a while, and I'm assuming we'll be parting ways tomorrow morning."

Amelia seemed to think about the proposal and then nodded. "Sure. A drive sounds great." She produced the keys for Asher's truck and smiled a brilliantly devious smile.

Sam laughed and they crossed the parking lot back to the truck.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

So, clearly, I'm going to finish this fic first... I want to get it done so I can work on Intermission, the mini-sequel to my Star Trek fic. Also, I want to get farther into Monster Hospital, because it's a big project and I want to make some progress.

Anyways, enjoy and I'm sorry these chapters are short, but that's just how they come out.

**Next Chapter: A Little Less Than Friendly Farewell. **


	10. Chapter Ten: Less Than Friendly Farewell

I don't own **Supernatural.** Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

* * *

**Monster Hospital, Book Two: Vampires.  
**Chapter Ten: A Little Less Than Friendly Farewell.

* * *

"I taught you better than this, Dean!"

"What you taught me doesn't apply in this situation!" Dean yelled back, getting in his father's face.

Asher and Bobby were standing to the side, as the yelling had shifted focus from her to Dean. The werewolf, her secret now in the open, had reverted to her normal sarcastic self and was standing there, observing just how much Dean looked and acted like his father. She turned to Bobby and said, "Well at least I know where Dean got it all."

Bobby tried to keep from smiling, but barely managed. Luckily, John and Dean were too busy yelling at each other to notice. "Dean is a lot like his Dad, but he had to grow up fast."

"Yeah, and take care of Sammich while they were on the road. I know the drill."

"Really? Because it seems you and Amelia share the role of caretaker."

Asher thought about that for a moment and realized it was true. She shrugged and opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment, the heat and the screaming focused once again on Asher. Apparently the problem had once again focused on the werewolf.

"You should have killed her when you found out what she was!" John roared. His words were directed at Dean, but his dark eyes and weathered face were all about Asher. "Or at the very least watched her until the next full moon!" He rounded on his son, who was standing so close he nearly got slapped. "You've got to be responsible Dean! You can't let monsters run around without any warnings or threats or anything! She's not human, Dean! She's a monster!"

Against her better judgement, Asher snarled; it was too close to the full moon for her to be facing this much emotion. Bobby—who seemed to be dealing with the news of Asher's true nature—grabbed her wrist and pulled her back before she did anything really stupid.

"Asher is _not _a monster, Dad! You don't even know her!"

"I don't have—"

"Don't you think I did everything I could to make sure she wasn't a risk? Don't you think I made sure she wasn't going to run out and kill people? Her and Amelia have found a way to keep her from changing!"

"That's impossible!"

Asher wrenched her arm away from Bobby and stepped up to John. "It is not impossible!" she yelled, jabbing her finger into his chest. "I can prove it's not!" She stepped back and pulled her t-shirt over her head, exposing her newer wounds, but also the latticework of scars criss-crossing her middle. She stuck her hands out, showing the burn scars around her wrists. "Every month for at least three nights, I get tied down with silver chains," she hissed. "They burn, but the silver keeps me from changing, but I'm going to have to carry these scars for the rest of my life!" She stepped closer to him, until her nose was almost pressed against his neck, and then she glared up at him. "So don't call me a monster, asshole. Not when I torture myself endlessly to prevent myself from becoming just that!"

John opened his mouth, but Asher cut off him by pulling his handgun from the holster at his belt and pointing it at her head. "But," she continued, tears bubbling in the corner of her eyes, "If you still think I'm not worth keeping around, then I'll end it myself."

Dean grabbed Asher's arm and pulled it away from her head. Only because Asher really didn't want to kill herself was Dean able to overcome her superhuman strength and bend her arm behind her back. He wrestled the gun from her and pinned her face-first against the wall, his mouth ending up by her ear. "Stop being stupid, Asher," he hissed. "Take a deep breath and calm the fuck down so I don't have to smack you around again."

Asher's sob turned into a bitter laugh. "I hate you Dean," she managed.

Dean let go of Asher and tossed the gun back to his Dad, who caught it and returned it to its holster. "Happy?" he asked.

John looked a little thunderstruck.

"Why don't we all take a minute?" Bobby suggested. "And all calm the fuck down."

Bobby pulled John to one side of the room and started talking to him in hushed tones while Dean pulled the shirtless Asher into the kitchenette of the motel room. He tossed her the ripped and bloody Captain Kirk t-shirt and she pulled it on, frowning slightly at the rips.

"This was my favourite shirt," she moaned.

"I'm sure you'll find another one." Dean ran his hands back over his hair and then looked at her, his face completely serious. "What were you thinking?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"I'm sick of being called a monster. You and Sam did it; your Dad is doing it... Bobby probably wants to, but he's too nice to say it my face. Hell, even Amelia called me a monster right after it happened." She leaned forward and put her forehead on Dean's shoulder, prompting him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. "Maybe I am a monster..."

"Asher, stop it. You're not a monster and you know it."

"Dean..." She pressed her face into his neck, nuzzling in that dog-like way again. "Thank you."

"Hey," he said, holding her back a little so he could look her in the eye, "You may be the biggest bitch I've ever met, but I'm not going to let you kill yourself, Ash." Dean pulled her close again and kissed her forehead. "Although I enjoyed pinning you against the wall..."

Asher pulled back and punched him in the chest, but she was smiling. "I'm going to get cleaned up and change while your Dad is still calming down."

She gave Dean a real, warm smile and then headed to the bathroom, grabbing her bag on the way. Once she was in the bathroom, Asher dropped the bag on the counter and propped herself up over the sink, the tears that were suddenly falling hitting the porcelain of the sink. She'd been so close to killing herself before, but no one had ever known about it, not until now, anyway, although, if she was lucky, the Winchesters and Bobby would chalk it up to being under a lot of pressure. When she managed to stop herself from crying, she turned the water on almost as hot as it would go and undressed. As she waited for the water to heat up, Asher examined the wounds that had reopened in the ordeal with the vampires.

Two of the gashes on her gut had opened and one patch of the road rash had bled a little more, along with two of the shallow bite marks on her side. "Damn it," she muttered. "I've got to be a little more careful..."

When there was steam issuing from the stream of water, she climbed into the shower and let it pound against her back; it felt good. Asher groaned a bit as the water hit tender spots, but she didn't rush cleaning the dried blood and grime from her skin. When she was clean and her hair was washed, she climbed out from under the water and dried herself off. Amelia wasn't going to have to repair that stitches after all, since there was no fresh blood. She dressed in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a bright blue tank top, brushed her hair and re-entered the main room of the motel.

Where John, Bobby and Dean were all waiting.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" John asked.

Asher blinked at the bluntness of the question, but answered it nonetheless. "As a werewolf? Once. Right after I changed for the first time. Sam and Dean were the first ones on the case, actually." Asher had lost track of how many former people and supernatural creatures she'd killed not a werewolf.

"I remember that one," Bobby said. "It makes sense that you wouldn't have been able to catch her since she's a hunter as well."

"Yeah, that's great." John turned back to Asher. "And these chains actually work?"

Asher nodded. "Better than you could ever imagine."

John was clearly having trouble with the concept of letting the werewolf live, just as he had trouble with letting the vampires go; even though he had been part of the negotiations, he wasn't stupid. There had been around fifty vampires and only six hunters. There was no way they could have killed them all, but if they broke the nest up and then broke their promises, they could easily take care of the smaller groups.

"Fine. But if—"

"Yeah, yeah. If I kill anyone, you'll hunt me down and kill me yourself. Got it."

"Good." John cleared his throat and grabbed his bag. "I'm going to pack up the truck." He looked at Dean. "When your brother gets back, tell him we're heading out."

The older Winchester and Bobby left the motel room to start getting ready to leave. Asher walked over to Dean.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"The thing that killed my Mom... it was a demon. Dad's got a lead, so we're going to try and hunt it down and end this once and for all." He sighed.

"Oh."

"Yeah, and once it's dead, Sam's probably going to go back to school and it'll just be my Dad and I hunting again."

"Are... you okay with that?"

Dean shrugged. "Would you be okay if Amelia decided she didn't want to be hunter anymore?"

"Point taken." Asher moved back to the bed and started gathering her things together. "Where is Sam?"

"Him and Amelia went for a drive, apparently."

"In my truck?"

"Yes."

Asher cursed under her breath, but pushed it no farther. "So you're going to keep hunting, even after you take out the demon that killed your Mom?"

"I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to. It's my life."

"Right. So, I guess we'll run into each other at some point, then."

"Yeah..."

Once she was finished packing—Dean didn't have to pack, since he'd done it when Asher was in the shower—Asher turned to look at the hunter and found him standing pretty close. She closed the distance and they embraced, the gesture making that day the most affectionate they'd been to each other without alcohol. They stepped back enough to look at each other. Dean brushed some hair out of her face.

"Hey Ash, let's go!" The door banged open, admitting Amelia and Sam. Both of them stopped walking and the four young hunters started at each other. In an attempt to break the tension, Amelia said, "Your Dad and Bobby took off. Papa Winchester said he'd meet up with you two later."

"Right."

Asher looked at Dean and then grabbed her bag. "See you later, asshat." She crossed the room to the door and slipped on a pair of flip-flops she withdrew from her bag and walked out into the parking lot. "Bye Bambi."

Amelia said goodbye to Dean and then gave Sam a quick hug before she followed her sister. Asher had settled herself in the passenger seat which meant that Amelia was going to take the first driving shift. "Where are we going?" Amelia asked.

"Home."

As Amelia backed out of the parking spot, Dean and Sam emerged from the room, Sam waving as he walked to the office to check out and Dean waving as he walked to his car. Asher's eyes didn't leave Dean or the Impala until she could no longer see the parking lot, and then she sighed and settled back into the seat. The sister drove in silence for a long while, until the sun started to set.

"You and Dean seem... close," Amelia said tentatively.

"So do you and Sam," she snapped.

They fell back into silence as Amelia drove on, planning on stopping at the first big rest station where they could check the news and find their next lead.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

So Book 2 is done! Yay!

So, it's not as great as Book 1 was—or at least, not as great as I felt it was—but Book 3 will be better, mostly because I really, really want to write it. There's going to be a lot of emotion and anger and some awesome bonding between Asher and Dean. But first, there's a one-shot.

So, enjoy the last chapter of this book, and here's a preview of what's next in Monster Hospital.

**Next Story: Peace of Mind (ONE SHOT). **The girls swing by Harvelle's to catch up with Ellen, Jo and Ash—friends they haven't seen in a while. While they're there, Sam and Dean show up, chasing an old voice mail message. While the boys go off on a hunt to try and get over the devastating loss they've just suffered, Asher and Amelia hang around the bar, making money and taking a break before they hit the road again.**  
Next Book: Werewolves. **Asher's gone missing and it's almost the full moon. Nothing good can come of this.  
**First Chapter: Distress.**


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